Ties That Bind
by Della19
Summary: A multi chaptered story that explores the question; would the XI universe be able to survive the presence of two Kirk's? A story involving Kirk Prime and K/S both Prime and new, pon farr, first and not so first times and the inevitably of love.
1. Of Spider Webs and Gossamer Threads

Disclaimer: Star Trek and the boys belong to Gene Roddenberry, who I am not. I am only borrowing them with the greatest respect, and promise to return them in (mostly) pristine condition.

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"Of all the ties that bind us, through life, death and everything in between there will never exist one that is stronger than love." – Unknown.

_PICARD: Guinan, can I leave the Nexus?_

_GUINAN: Why would you want to leave?_

_PICARD: Can I?_

_GUINAN: Yes, where would you go?_

_PICARD: I don't understand._

_GUINAN: I told you, time has no meaning here. If you leave, you can go anywhere, any time._

_-_Guinan and Captain Picard - Star Trek: Generations

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There was no one who truly knew what the Nexus was capable of. Some thought it was a paradise; to never want, to never age, to never die, to live a fantasy for all eternity. Others thought it was a prison of shadows and ghosts with bars they could not see. In truth it was both and neither, because truth, like beauty is subjective to the eye of the beholder. But whatever it was it not inhabited only by echoes; because once one had entered they could never truly leave.

Ancient Terran natives had once believed that a photograph would steal your soul; trap it in an image of oneself and preserve it there for all eternity. It had been an idea ridiculed on Earth by men of science and intellect, but then they had never seen the Nexus, never even been able to dream of its power. For to exit the Nexus was to leave yourself behind; a back up drive or a copy of your soul fully formed and functional, capable one day of its own departure, so long as the previous soul had died. But such a thing was rare as there were so few souls strong enough to fight the effects of the Nexus even long enough to contemplate leaving and so most remained wrapped in the gossamer blanket of dreams they wove for themselves, free of any thoughts (much less ones of departure).

But that was not to say that it did not occur; that there were not in existence souls strong enough to break through the fog of the Nexus and into reality. And it was only through these souls that the true power of the Nexus could be seen because if space and time were a quilt; each universe and reality a separate patch then the Nexus was the thread woven into each one, connecting them and holding them together. And so there were some souls that were strong enough to return to their own universe at a time of their choosing and fix their past, change their future or simply to go back to where they had left off and live the life they had been denied. But there was still a class of souls above these, rarer even than the most precious of gems for these souls were so strong they could defy even time and space; could travel from nothingness to a universe that was not their own in pursuit of their heart's desire, so long as their will was strong enough. And as those who had known him had very frequently said; there was no man who had a stronger will than James Tiberius Kirk.


	2. Awake But Dreaming, Dreaming But Awake

Disclaimer: Star Trek and the boys belong to Gene Roddenberry, who I am not. I am only borrowing them with the greatest respect, and promise to return them in (mostly) pristine condition.

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"... A dream that became a reality and spread throughout the stars" -- Kirk (Whom Gods Destroy)

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It was his guilty pleasure; his most exquisite sin, more necessary than breathing. Jim didn't like doing it often, because here it felt wrong; a ghastly mockery of what they had once been and every time he did it he would promise it would be the last, and every time it would be a lie, because he was only a man, deeply flawed and unquestionably human and he could not live without his t'hy'la forever. So he began once again, hating himself for his weakness (his need; more addictive than any other drug mankind had created) and he closed his eyes and imagined. When he finally opened his eyes (an eternity but a second later) his thoughts had taken form and there before him was his lover as he'd been the day he'd left him to voyage on the Enterprise-B. Sleek and shiny black hair, perfectly straight and never out of place framed the precious pale face with its brown and beloved too human eyes, accented by a body of delightful angles and deceptive strength. Perfect all the way from his toes to tip of his pointed ears; Spock.

A gasp escaped him; one always did in that first moment when he could simply look at Spock again and so he did, drinking him in like water after an intense drought. He refused to allow himself to think of the truth and concentrated only on his t'hy'la who with him again after so long of being alone. Perhaps it would work this time...it had to work this time. Please god; anyone, let it work this time.

Then Spock was moving closer, navigating the room that they had shared so much in with ease and spoke, "Jim, you have returned unharmed. Should I be concerned?" And his eyebrow tilted slightly, expressing the teasing that would have been present in his tone if he had not been Vulcan. And Jim felt his heart swell in response and he closed the distance between them, pressing his lips to Spock's with desperation, kissing him fiercely and and as he felt Spock respond he prayed that this time it would work. But it didn't and after a long moment he pulled away with a sob of despair and turned his head because it hurt too much to look.

It was easy to pretend it was fine when he talked to Spock here; when he looked at him, but it was when he touched him that he was forced to remember that it wasn't real, because he couldn't _feel_ him. There had been heat from the kiss (or at least the idea of heat; there was no true feeling in the Nexus) but it was like kissing a stranger; the mental contact he'd had with the real Spock wasn't there and Jim couldn't bear it.

So he closed his eyes and wished for solitude; an entire planet to himself so he wouldn't have to share it with ghosts and dolls that were put away when one was done playing with them, because the people he knew (Spock) deserved better than that. When he opened his eyes he was alone and a tremendous garden sprawled all around him, a massive tree at its center whose leaves gleamed as the sun shone down on them and the rest of the garden, rays reflecting across the water like millions of diamonds. Eden, his early religious education supplied and Jim laughed bitterly because there was no paradise here; not without Spock.

His frustration made him anxious and so he paced to work of the tension, thinking as he did so. It hadn't been like this before, he knew, even if his recollection of before wasn't all that clear. Before it had been like looking at life through a veil and the world had been soft and incomplete; a pleasant dream that he'd had no desire to wake from.

But then Captain Picard of the new Starship Enterprise had come and had forced him awake and he'd become aware of his situation, and like any good trick the magic had disappeared once he'd realised the mechanics of it and he'd wanted to depart. He'd been ready to leave, and for a moment it had almost felt like he had, but then Picard had simply disappeared and he'd still been in the dream world, only now he was awake. And although the idea of being awake but dreaming did carry a certain lyrical and poetic appeal it was hideous to withstand; a wax museum of your life, a world of almost and nearly's, an endless nightmare. If before had been a fog, heavy and sweet, then after was a knife, sharp and painful as it sliced through unprotesting flesh. Before he hadn't noticed that the people (ghosts) here were empty, but now he couldn't escape it as the generic taste of his lover's imposter still lingered on his lips.

Now there was nothing he wanted more than to leave - to escape - but he wasn't sure how. Picard had managed it, but then he'd had a goal - a time - to focus on while Jim didn't. He couldn't go back to before the test on the Enterprise-B, not only because if he did more people would die (even if he could stop the launch and take the fucking ship apart they still would) but because it was so hard to focus on anything here for a sustained amount of time without getting swept away in the sheer rush that was the Nexus. The only thing he could truly concentrate on was...Spock!

And suddenly Jim was propelled into action because if he could focus hard enough on Spock, maybe, just maybe he could use that as a rope to pull him out and have Spock be his anchor. A long shot most likely, but really at this point anything that could even _maybe_ get him out of this hell was worth a shot.

And so he closed his eyes again because with one's eyes closed it was easy to ignore the burn of the sun you couldn't feel, and the rush of the water you couldn't hear and tried to look into the very core of himself to where his t'hy'la presence had once lived. As he searched he was obvious to everything but Spock and so he did not see the sky darken, ominous clouds whipping across it, or the grass disappear and be replaced with jagged and bleak rocks; the scene as ghastly as paradise after the consumption of the forbidden fruit.

But suddenly none of that mattered because he'd found it; that tiny heat inside himself and he coaxed it to life and basked in the warmth and thought, 't'hy'la.' It was in that instant that lightening shot through the sky; a single fork more brilliant than any light he'd ever seen before and it errupted from the clouds and struck him and finally there was a burn after an eternity of numbness. Then he was flying, hurtling through a tunnel that seemed to be getting progressively smaller and he wondered if this was what birth felt like when suddenly he connected; felt hard ground underneath his body and then his head snapped into a rock and Jim surrendered to the familiar blackness of unconsciousness.

He awoke slowly, an undeterminable amount of time later and blinked sluggishly as the sun burned his eyes. He gave them a moment to adjust as he dazedly wondered what new torment the Nexus had torn from his subconscious and forced him to live through (it was safe to say that the novelty of his very own fantasy world had worn off long ago).

He attempted to rise up on one of his elbows to check his surroundings, but he was stopped by the sharp lightening strike of pain that shot from the top of his skull to his forehead and he fell back limply to the ground. Gently propping himself up on a tree trunk in the grove of bushes he had found himself in he cradled his head in his hands in a futile attempt to lessen the pain and suddenly he stopped, his breath frozen like a wall of ice in his chest because when he had been in the Nexus there had been nothing; no fear, no warmth, no love and certainly no pain, but now there was. Now there was the explosion behind his skull, the scrape on his knee that was slowly dripping blood onto the soft grass that in turn was prickling at his stomach and he could feel it all and hope crashed into him like a tsunami because this time; this time he might have done it.

Slowly, with hands that trembled from the sheer emotion that was threatening to overwhelm him, he reached down and gripped his side gently between his forefinger and his thumb, but in the last second he hesitated. A sudden shock of fear grasped him and held him tightly in its clutches, paralyzing him because he had tried this so many times before in the Nexus and there had been nothing and now when he was closer than he had ever been before he was terrified that this simple thing would be what killed his hope and reinforced the invisible iron bars of his gilded cell. But then he thought of Spock and his heart, which was currently residing in his throat, gave a rolling shudder and so Jim gathered his courage and squeezed and then he could do no more than weep huge, silent sobs of relief as his side throbbed unpleasantly from where he had pinched it.

Once he had finally managed to calm himself, Jim sat and breathed in the tangy scent of the air which tasted nearly as sweet as his relief that was still tinged with the faintest aura of disbelief as he could hardly believe that finally, against all odds he was out of the Nexus and free.

And then a loud bang echoed to his right and Jim chanced a look over the top of the bush that he was hiding in and just stared because he might have been free but he was apparently also being held by a group of crazed George Lucas fans (hey, he'd been interested in space even as a kid) on an impressive stone alter.

And he just continued to stare, simply dumfounded because the man on said alter was unquestionably him, only much younger (and god hadn't he been a handsome devil when he was young!). If it wasn't for the fact that he'd never be able to dream an experience like this and the headache that he had he'd of thought he was still in the Nexus, because this was right up there on the list of the strangest things he'd ever seen in his life. And he had been the Captain of the Enterprise, so he'd definitely seen some strange things! On the bright side this version of himself didn't appear to be an evil and sadistic psychopath, so at least there was a good chance he was in a better alternative universe than the last one (though Spock with a beard and that uniform with the sash had been nice to look at).

It was at the thought of Spock that Jim stopped and ducked behind his bush for another moment to contemplate the situation he'd found himself in. Spock had been his focal point in his effort to escape the Nexus, and since it appeared to have worked (and he wad almost thankful for the headache now because it proved that no matter how amazing this was, it was also real) he should have ended up where Spock was.

He chanced another quick look at the bizarre tableau in front of him to see if in his disbelief he'd missed the sight of his lover captive, but the scene hadn't changed. There was still a young doppelganger of himself being interrogated by stormtrooper look-a-likes while being restrained to a large stone alter, but there was most assuredly no Spock, which didn't make sense (not that there was much about this situation that _did_ make sense). But, if he wanted to figure this out and find Spock (and he _really_ did) then he was going to have to make it make sense (he'd had a Vulcan sharing his head for years; he should be able to manage a little unconventional logic).

Point one; he was definitely in an alternative universe. That probably went without saying since Jim was positive he wasn't in the past (no matter how much his head hurt or how fogged the Nexus had made him he was sure an experience like this one would have stuck) but it made a good stepping stone for further intuitive leaps.

Point two; Spock was in this universe somewhere (and not just this universes Spock but _his_ Spock). He wasn't sure where but he was definitely sure of that fact. The bond that they had shared was still alive, but it had been drastically weakened by his "death" and the distance between them and so what had once been a strong and warm pulse was now no more than the faintest of hums.

Point three; the Nexus had dropped him here, in this distinctly Spock free area, after he'd wished to return to Spock. It was point three that was the real puzzler and although Jim was by no means pretending to understand the mysteries of the Nexus, he figured that there might be a certain (twisted) kind of sense to all of it. He wanted Spock, but because of their weakened bond and his lack of transportation (the Nexus apparently wasn't thoughtful enough to drop him in an alternative universe with a ship) he had no way of finding Spock, much less getting to him and that was the problem he figured his young self might be able to help him solve.

So, if he continued his current thought path, then he figured it was safe to say that this Jim knew where his Spock was. It was a bit of a leap perhaps, but it made sense to him (he'd always been drawn to all versions of Spock and he couldn't imagine that this alternative Jim was any different). Also, if this Jim did know where his Spock was then it was also safe to say that this Jim probably had a way to get him to Spock; a ship he was serving on that was hopefully orbiting the planet (maybe even the Enterprise if the golden shirt he was wearing was any indication).

It seemed like a good plan (in a 'down-the-rabbit-hole-through-the-looking-glass' sort of way), but Jim sat forward as he realised the snag in it. This alternate Jim wasn't going to be doing anything, much less ferrying him across the universe if he died on that alter and Jim wasn't about to let the fate of his life (both his lives) rest on the notion that this Jim's crew was going to save him (them). So, if he followed this thought to its conclusion then he was left with only one option; if he wanted to end up where Spock was, Jim himself was going to have to save his alternative self. And that there was the real snag because, fuck, he was getting way too old for this.

But despite that the situation still stood and so Jim took another look over the bush to see if he couldn't figure out a way to get them out of this. On the positive side, there were fewer guards then before; only three were guarding his younger self now instead of the several dozen that there were before. On the negative, there were still more of them than him and the three that were there were significantly better armed than he was (and likely much more fit than him; getting old simply sucked!)

In fact, the only real tactical advantage that he had was the element of surprise, which didn't do him much good unless he could get his hands on a weapon (jumping out and shouting boo likely wasn't going to do anything but get him killed; he was going to shelve that as a 'way-back-up' plan). So if he needed a weapon and the natives had weapons, then logically (and wouldn't Bones just be dying of shock right about now) he was going to have to isolate one of the natives and 'relieve' them of their weapon. And as an added bonus, if he managed to get a native off to the side he could also take their uniform which not only gave him an entrance strategy but also a way to hid his identity from this young Jim, because the time it would take to explain this (whatever this was) would definitely get them both killed.

So now that he had a plan (and he wasn't saying it was a good one, simply the best he could come up with when he had a budding concussion and no time) Jim moved to crouch behind one of the trees close to the dirt path that lead to the clearing where his younger self was being held and waited for one of the men to move past him (hopefully before his young doppelganger was killed; he'd freely admit that there were some holes in his plan).

His luck had apparently changed though (perhaps the universe had finally recognised the debt it owed him and was trying to repay him, although if that was the case he could think of a better form of payment; namely Spock-sex) because after a few minutes of waiting one of the three guards had broken off from the others and had headed into the woods (likely to relieve himself). Jim waited until he was sure that he was out of the other two guards lines of sight (although they were more distracted by the prospect of torturing their captive than their friend's bathroom mission) and had snuck up behind the guard who was in the middle of answering natures call. It had only taken a second to subdue him (humans couldn't really perform a true nerve pinch but there was a modified version taught to those who were in ... close enough confidence to a Vulcan; but this really wasn't the time to think about pillow talk) and the guard had fallen like a ton of bricks to the floor, where the sound had thankfully been muffled by the spongy ground underneath them.

Jim had then quickly (and as silently as possible; getting shot while half naked wasn't really the way he wanted to go out either) divested him of his uniform and his weapon and put them on his own body, grimacing at the fit of the uncomfortable plastic.

He had then hidden the fallen soldier behind a bush and begun to make his way into the clearing, moving at a sedate pace (and he had almost been impressed by the guards for their ability to walk in such a uniform; the plastic had begun to ride up and it was exceedingly ... awkward to move). When he had reached the edge of the clearing he had paused for a moment to activate the weapon he had stolen (it was a bit like a primitive phaser rifle) and to position it so that it hung over his shoulder from its strap, which gave him easier access but did not alert the two other guards of his intentions.

After he was ready he stood still for only one additional moment and thought that no matter had old or how uncomfortable he was, it felt damn good to be back in the game. And although no one could see it, there was a smile on his face as he had stepped forward to show this new world that James T. Kirk (version 1.0) had arrived.

A/N: Yeah so this story evolved from me really loving Star Trek 2009, but hating the fact that Spock Prime was all alone. Since I'm a K/S shipper and since this is Star Trek (what, the laws of reality are going to start applying now?) this was how I decided to address that problem. The chapters alternate; this one is in Kirk Prime's perceptive, and the next one is in New-Kirk's point of view.


	3. Achieving Escape Velocity

Disclaimer: Star Trek and the boys belong to Gene Roddenberry, who I am not. I am only borrowing them with the greatest respect, and promise to return them in (mostly) pristine condition.

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_Kirk: So, we're stranded here, in the middle of a Klingon occupation army.  
Spock: So it would seem. Not a very pleasant prospect.  
Kirk: You have a gift for understatement, Mister Spock. It's not a very pleasant prospect at all.  
__- Spock and Kirk (Errand of Mercy)_

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Jim knew that the situation he'd found himself in wasn't the worst thing that had every happened to him, because if he was to going be frank (pun most certainly intended) he had about ten other things in his past that easily topped this on the good old 'suck-o-meter.'

Really, it wasn't even the worst thing that had happened to him this week, as that auspicious title had most definitely gone to the fight he'd had with Spock a few nights ago. Spock had apparently thought that Jim was taking unnecessary risks with his life while on missions and Jim had thought he was taking completely necessary risks with his life on missions, and after that the communication had pretty much disintegrated into a lot of yelling (on Jim's part) and a great deal of eye twitching (on Spock's part) and then they had finished by both storming off in a huff (well Jim had stormed and Spock had strode stiffly, but he'd figured that was as close as Vulcan's ever got to storming).

Jim reluctantly acknowledged now that the seriously unfavourable situation he'd currently found himself in (tied to an alter on a relatively violent class M planet while his captors either tried to sacrifice him or torture answers out of him; the odds were about 50/50 at the moment) probably wasn't helping his case any, but he was a bit consumed with all the other things he needed to worry about (like staying alive; that was a big one).

And so while this wasn't the worst thing that had ever happened to him, Jim knew that he was going to remember this day for the rest of his life (and he was hoping that 'the rest of his life' was a long time instead of say 6-10 hours). Though his certainty of that fact wasn't because this experience was going to traumatise him for the rest of his life (seriously, very few things could compare with Nero's fuckin' big-ass pointy black ship of doom), but rather that despite the very real threat of death that seemed to hang in the air all around him, Jim was desperately trying to hold in the gales of laughter that were trying to break free from his chest.

Said laughter (which he was pretty sure wouldn't go over very well with the natives) was prompted by the sheer surrealism of the situation; namely the fact that his captors were almost identical to the stormtroopers from the old holovids he'd used to watch with his brother to make fun of the inaccuracies the filmmakers had made regarding space (and the uniforms; the way they walked just made them look so funny).

Maybe some moron had left a vid here years ago and the people had thought it made a great bible (and that would explain a lot about the mindset of the natives), or maybe it was just a coincidence, but he guessed it could have been worse. If his crew had to rescue him (and they had better rescue him) from a Star Wars movie gone wrong, stromtroopers were much better than midget teddy bears, because if it had been the latter he would have been forced to kill his crew and that would have been a real waste of excellent people (well, maybe not Cupcake, but the others definitely).

Budding hysteria aside, there was of course another downside to this already sucktastic situation; namely that Jim now had a great deal of time on his hands for nothing more than thinking, something that wouldn't have been so bad except for the fact that he really was damn close to death which was a pretty fucking thought consuming thing.

So after he'd tortured himself by trying to figure a way out by himself and had come up with nothing Jim had turned his mind to the one thing the he had known would keep his occupied until he was rescued (or killed, whatever came first); Spock. Or, if he was going to be more specific, the fact that he felt ... something for Spock. But not love, he quickly amended, because there was no in no way in heaven, hell or that place in between (you know, that place that started with a p and strangely seemed to resemble his life) he could be in love with Spock (really; none whatsoever.) But while it most certainly wasn't love (and he really needed to stop using that word if he wanted to keep his cool; and his mind) he was in something with Spock, and now seemed as good a time as any to devote some time too trying to figure out just what that 'something' was.

Although he and Spock most certainly hadn't started out as anything other than two people who really hadn't liked each other (enemies was such a strong word) they had been in the middle of a seriously emotionally charged situation and if there was one tidbit of self taught psychology that Jim had learned from his travels it was that when you were that fucked up and you looked at the world, whatever you were looking at tended to get a bit distorted. So once he'd managed to clear all that blurry emotion from his eyes and had settled into his new routine on the ship he'd decided to take the elder Spock's (and wasn't that just a mind fuck in itself) advice and taken another look at Spock 2.0.

And although he would freely admit that nothing had changed for a while because looking at Spock was a bit like looking at an onion; there were so many protective layers you needed to peel back before you reached the heart, once he had finally put some effort into getting to know Spock (and peeled back some of his layers) he had decided that he really did like what he saw.

Spock was loyal (at least to those who had earned his loyalty), honest to a fault and as reliable as the passage of time. That aside, it was easy to see how he'd gotten his first impression of Spock so wrong, because on the surface there existed an infinity of differences between the two of them. Spock was full of dry wit; Jim preferred to laugh out loud. Jim was a risk taker; Spock preferred to not only look but scientifically calculate all of the possible odds before he even considered leaping. Spock was logical; Jim was the dictionary definition of illogical (really, he was pretty sure that if there wasn't already a dictionary out there somewhere with his picture under the word there would be after Spock spent some more time with him).

But as the mission had progressed Jim had finally clued into the fact that it was their differences that made them such a good team, because it was those differences that made them complement each other so well and it had been from that quality that their friendship had emerged. To use a food metaphor (his captors weren't exactly giving him three squares and he was getting a little hungry) they might have been oil and vinegar, and although they didn't mix easily, given a little time and effort they became a pretty kick ass salad dressing.

So, while his and Spock's new sense of togetherness was great, it was also where part of where the problem had started for him, because apparently along with Spock's friendship came a well formed appreciation for his ass. By itself, the discovery that he found Spock fuckable wouldn't have even fazed him as he was all for sexual diversity and he was perfectly content to live his life in a permanently bi-curious phase, sampling the sexual charms of individuals of all race, color, species and creed.

No, the real problem was the fact that the attraction was so deeply twined with the friendship part of the equation, because in Jim's vast experience friends and sex just didn't mix at all (and he felt that the fact that Bones was the only real friend he'd had at the academy proved that particular theory). And while it wasn't like he'd never chosen sex over friendship in the past, because that for him was more of the norm, his friendship with Spock was most certainly the exception to that particular rule.

His meld with Spock the elder on Delta Vega had not left him with any clear images beyond the ones pertaining to their immediate situation, but it had left him with the most appealing sense of belonging he'd ever felt. And while he'd loved that feeling, it had consequently left him terrified of fucking up and losing all that potential with his own Spock, because while his friendship with Spock now was great the friendship his and Spock's alternative selves had enjoyed had been simply epic, and not something he wanted to let anything interfere with (baring the seemingly very likely event of his early demise).

But while the fact that sex would ruin their friendship kept him from propositioning Spock, it wasn't the reason that he was so sure that he wasn't in love with Spock. No, that knowledge was courtesy of the depressing fact that Jim knew that the moment that he let himself love Spock, would be the moment that he'd lose him. It wasn't self pity (because if he wasn't going to accept pity from anyone else he most definitely wasn't going to accept it from himself), or just a maudlin thought brought on by his less than favourable situation, but a relative fact of his life for as long as he could remember.

Jim had loved his mother, with the pure and unconditional love children gave to their parents and in return she'd spent every moment she could away from him, unable to even look at his face with a smile upon her own. He'd loved his first high school boyfriend, at the tender age of fourteen when he'd still been geeky and lanky, only to have his heart crushed when the boy had humiliated him in front of their whole school by siding with the homophobic masses (not an event he wanted to remember in detail). In fact, he loved everyone he'd had a relationship with up until a few months before he'd joined the academy, when his girlfriend at the time had found out she was pregnant. When he had offered to marry her, she had immediately shot him down and had promptly moved off planet, stopping only to inform him that if he contacted her again, she'd get an abortion.

It had been right at that moment (with the pain so sharp and excruciating) that Jim had realised that love simply wasn't in the cards for him, and in an effort to save himself from the impossible hurt had given up on serious relationships entirely, fucking and fighting his way across the country until that fateful night when Captain Pike had found him in a rundown bar in Iowa and recruited him (where he'd then proceeded to fuck his way through the academy, cause hey, if it ain't broke don't fix it).

So there it was, clear cut proof that he wasn't in love with Spock; that he couldn't be in love with Spock, because Spock wasn't gone. Spock was still on the Enterprise, still his first officer (who hopefully at this moment was trying to devise a brilliant plan to get his ass off this god damned planet) and still his friend, and so as long as Jim had that, he was willing to ignore that "something" he felt and hope for that epic friendship in reward (maybe he could see if his love curse worked on dogs).

However, at that moment his thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the return of one of his three torture happy captors (and he was almost glad to see him as he'd decided that thinking about death was less depressing than thinking about the clusterfuck that was his love life), who positioned himself slightly behind the two other guards.

As he looked at the guards he got the strangest feeling, like if a tiny cold shiver was crawling leisurely up his spine, only to lodge itself in the vicinity of his throat. He'd just been about to attribute it to the fact that this moment was likely going to be his last one on earth, when the third guard had suddenly raised his weapon and shot the guard closest to him in the back, where the body armour was not as strong. The second guard was taken down in the next instant by a shot to the side that struck him as he'd spun around to face the rogue guard and his armour had risen, leaving him vulnerable, upon which he had then dropped to the ground to join the first guard in death (if the gapping and slightly charred wounds they both sported were any indication).

The man then stepped up to the alter and Jim braced himself as the guard raised the weapon once again, but the searing pain that he'd been expecting had never come as the shot instead hit the thick leather restraints that were immobilising his hands, disintegrating and melting them so that he was able to free his upper body from the alter. A moment later a second shot followed the first, this time freeing his feet and Jim couldn't help but wince slightly as the melted leather of the restraints burned a small hole through his pants, singeing the numb flesh.

His unknown rescuer had shocked him even further when he'd gently hoisted him from the alter and had continued to support Jim's weight in an attempt to decrease the amount of pain he was feeling, not only from his 'interrogation' and his burn, but also from the cramps in his arms and legs, caused by his blood finally returning to his extremities. The man simply stood silently (a telling clue that this wasn't one of his crew; even Spock, who exuded that whole 'silence is golden' thing, would have said something by now) and Jim took advantage of the time to regain his equilibrium, but as he was conscious of the fact that they didn't have a lot of time to linger, he tried to be as quick as he possibly could.

He was just about to open his mouth to inform his new ally (who he really hoped was an ally and not just some trick by his captors, although he doubted that; they hadn't struck him as all that bright) that he was ready when the man released him and moved to kneel beside one of the fallen guards. While he stripped the guard of his uniform and his weapon Jim did a few stretches to make sure everything still worked (it seemed to, but fortune favoured the prepared and he knew they were going to need luck on their side for this one) and wondered at the possibility of his rescuer being a telepath. The guy had seemed to know exactly when to release him without Jim having to say a word, but after another moment Jim decided it had likely been nothing more than a coincidence and that he was just being paranoid (it was easy to believe that the world was out to get you when you got kidnapped as frequently as he did).

The guy returned just as he'd finished his last stretch and Jim had taken the uniform he offered and put it on over his own clothes quickly (and the plastic wedgie he was going to get out of this might end up being worse than the native's torture), leaving the helmet off for the moment.

The guy held out the weapon he'd liberated from one of the dead guards and Jim took it, glad to have something in his hands capable of hurting the little stormtrooper bastards. However, the weird feeling in his throat was starting to migrate to other parts of his body, and so before he was going anywhere with his new friend, he wanted to know what he was dealing with.

"Why are you helping me?" He finally asked, because while he didn't want to sound like he was ungrateful, he also had a healthy suspicion of anyone who was willing to help him on this planet ('cause this planet was definitely going on his list of Planets that Fuckin' Suck and Should Not Be Visited Ever Again.) The stranger was silent for a moment longer and Jim wished he could see the guy's face as he processed his answer instead of his own in the reflective surface of the visor.

Finally the man replied, voice muffled but still heavy with irony "Self-preservation. Now let's get moving before we're discovered." And although Jim was still a bit confused, the weird feeling had decreased a bit with the knowledge that he was dealing a humanoid that was responsive and didn't sound too crazy (and contrary to popular belief you could hear such things in the voice...coughNerocough). Also, he was more than willing to wait until he was safe (preferably on the Enterprise but he'd take just about anywhere _that wasn't here_ at this point) to figure out exactly how helping him helped the guy, so he put the helmet on and drew his newly acquired weapon and followed the guy as he headed for the trees.

After a few minutes of running in relative silence their luck in the "not getting caught and or killed" department appeared to wear off, as they heard the loud and repetitive blaring of a beacon, followed by the thunderous sound of footsteps as their adversaries answered the call. Jim took a quick three hundred and sixty degree scan of their surroundings and hoped like to mad find some place that they could hide out until they found some way to signal the Enterprise (and in doing so get beamed the hell out of here).

He nearly crowed but the pleasure (but he didn't because, you know, noise was bad when you were running for your life) of his good fortune when he noticed several caves in his peripheral vision, located near the base of the mountain they were heading for. They were nearly invisible now, in the half darkness of dusk and Jim was willing to bet his life that in the total blackness of night they'd be the perfect hiding spot.

"Caves," he informed his new travelling buddy, voice quiet in an effort not to draw more attention. "Two o'clock."

The guy took a quick glance in the direction, and after a moment he shook his head and replied, voice slightly rasping from the strain of running. "It's too dark, my eyes just aren't up for that anymore. You'll have to lead." He followed his words by slowing his pace fractionally and Jim over took him, altering their course so they were heading in the right direction.

Since running in a straight line really didn't take all that much concentration, Jim took a moment to analyse his masked friend and see if he could figure anything out from what he'd said. The fact that the guy was tired from running wouldn't have meant anything by itself, as Jim knew he would have been tired now even if he had been in optimal physical condition when they'd started, but the failing eye sight was a bit odd.

To his knowledge (which he freely admitted was impressive but certainly not as vast as some others; his sexual knowledge though...) people only lost their eye sight because of a disease, an accident or through plain old aging. But since the guy had made it sound it like he'd had perfect eye sight at one point, and it was only now starting to fail, aging seemed like the most likely option out of his three choices. And while he was pretty sure his ego could survive the wound inflicted by being rescued by an old guy, the old thing (like this whole damn situation) was a little weird, because according to the mission brief Uhura had complied on this planet (and yes, he really did read them, thank you very much) older citizens were held in very high respect in this society.

So if his mystery friend was older than chances were he'd either committed some crime that had gotten him in serious trouble here and was hoping Jim would be his way out, or he was from another planet and was hoping Jim could be his ride home. Jim was rather hoping for the second option (even though it seemed unlikely considering the warm welcome that foreigners were treated to here), because he really didn't want to put his continued trust in a man capable of committing whatever this planet considered a serious offense (he was pretty sure he'd read that murder was legal here; there was no way he wanted to imagine what they considered illegal).

Thankfully his thoughts were interrupted by their arrival at the caves, and Jim took one more cursory glance before rushing into one that was both relatively deep and well hidden by trees at its entrance. Once he was inside he promptly sank to the floor as he finally let his legs give out from the exhaustion of running and the abuse he'd taken at the native's hands, striping off the helmet to allow air into his tired lungs. The man followed him into the cave at a more sedate pace, his chest heaving slightly from the exertion and kneeled beside him.

"Anything broken?" he asked as he surveyed Jim's body, and Jim took a moment to actually take inventory of his aches and pains before replying. "No, thank god. Just hurts like a son of a bitch."

The man nodded in a way that seemed knowing and replied, the tiniest bit of empathy in his voice, "I imagine it does. Damn stormtrooper wannabe bastards." And Jim found himself speechless in response, because if the guy was from this planet (and that was the prevailing hypothesis at the moment) then apparently he had been right about the whole vid thing, and that was just way too fucking weird (who knew, maybe he'd end up seeing Ewoks after all, but he was absolutely drawing the line if Yoda showed up).

In the absence of a response from him the man got up and moved over to the other wall of the cave and slowly lowered himself to the ground, groaning only slightly as he did. Once he was seated he rested his stilled helmeted head against the hall before he turned his head towards Jim and asked, "Do you have your communicator?"

And Jim only felt even more dumfounded, and so he blurted out inelegantly, "What?" because none of this shit made any fuckin' sense, and that weird feeling was coming back with a vengeance (and that telepath theory was starting to look really good; much better than the 'he was going out of his mind' theory).

The guy gestured abstractly at Jim's chest and replied, "Your shirt. You're a captain with Starfleet, so unless they took your communicator or it broke, you should be able to use it to contact your ship."

And despite the absolute impossibility of the moment, Jim had to agree with the guy so, feeling a bit like he had had jumped of the cliff that was sanity and was plummeting towards the ground, he reached under the armour to his back pocket where his communicator was and pulled out a dented mass of plastic that was dripping wet and emitting nothing but static.

"How'd it get wet?" the guy asked, the faintest hint of humour and curiosity colouring his voice.

Jim racked his brain (the dented part was easy, the water not so much) before replying slowly, "They threw water on me to wake me up."

The guy nodded in response and then turned his head towards the back of the cave and gestured at some leaves and twigs that had blown in.

"It should work just fine if we can get it dry " he informed Jim as he stood up slowly and moved to crouch down beside the debris.

As he moved it into a pile Jim tried desperately to make _anything_ make sense, but all he came up with were more questions and since he doubted repeatedly banging his head against the wall would help (beyond the tempting possibility of making him unconscious so he didn't have to deal with this shit right now) he instead voiced the first question that came to his mind.

"You're not from around here, are you?" He asked, and the man chuckled in response and then paused to light the fire with his rifle before answering in a voice that sounded both cryptic and ironic, "Not exactly," before holding out his hand for the communicator.

Jim gave it to him with an increased sense of relief, because that knowledge made a few of his worries more unlikely (like those 'going crazy' and 'hiding out with a psychopath' fears he'd been having), but he was still curious how the guy had ended up here and so he asked, "Where are you from?" The man put the communicator near the fires edge and returned to his position across from him before answering, "No where you've ever been."

Jim laughed out loud in response and crossed his legs before he answered, "I wouldn't be so sure about that. There aren't many places the Enterprise won't go," his pride (and a hint of smugness) evident in his voice.

"She is a hell of a lady," the man answered, and Jim easily picked up on the hint of wistfulness in his voice, even through the helmet.

"So you have seen her," Jim said and another wave of relief swept over him as he finally felt a bit like he was getting a handle on the situation, because if the guy had been on one of the planets they had visited then that would answer a lot of those remaining questions.

The man was silent for a moment, like he was lost in thought, before he replied, "Once or twice," and his voice was unusually soft and upon hearing it Jim couldn't helped but feel that he'd been left out of some important secret or private joke.

A silence fell after the man finished speaking, and Jim directed his gaze towards the fire and for a moment he did nothing more than stare aimlessly into the flames. As he did so, he found himself wondering, almost absently if the deserts of Vulcan had looked like that before they had disappeared into the cold, nothingness that was space along with most of the people who had inhabited them.

The thought caused him to wince minutely, as if a phantom pain had just made itself known around the vicinity of his heart and his tiny exhalation of breath broke the silence.

"Sorry about that," the man announced quietly in response to the sound, gesturing with a tilt of his head at Jim's leg wound "but I couldn't find a knife, and that was the quickest way."

And although his pain didn't have anything to do with the burn, Jim appreciated the sentiment (he figured it was a good sign; psycho's rarely felt sorry for inflicting pain) and so he responded with a heartfelt, "No worries, man. I've had worse."

The guy answered with a chuckle that sounded like huff as it filtered through the helmet and as he turned his head towards the mouth of the cave Jim was sure he heard him say, "I'm sure you have."

The sheer certainty in his voice made Jim pause for a moment, because even if the guy knew of him from that whole 'saving the Earth' thing (apparently that kind of thing got you noticed), there was no way that even a resident of one of the planets they'd visited would know enough about his life recently to make that statement, which not only left him right back at square one but also a bit freaked out.

When he looked up again, the mask was tilted back towards him and although Jim couldn't see the guy's face he was nearly positive that he was being stared at with relative intensity and so he finally gave into the curiosity he'd been suppressing since he'd been rescued and demanded, in a voice he hoped indicated that he wasn't in the mood for games, "Alright man, who the hell are you?" And after a moment of silence he'd continued because the last time he'd felt a weird vibe as strong as the one he felt now he'd been stuck on Delta Vega and had just met the old and friendly Spock.

"You know about the Enterprise, about _Star Wars_ and you seem have an unhealthy amount of knowledge regarding me, so how about you quit the cryptic bullshit and give me a straight answer." And the guy was quiet for a moment before he shrugged and muttered something that sounded like "At least I'm observant," and before Jim could open his mouth to ask what the hell that meant the guy finally pulled off his helmet and extended his hand out.

"James Tiberius Kirk, at your service. It's a pleasure to meet me," he declared, a tremendously familiar smirk on his face and Jim's mouth simply fell open with shock because ah, now that weird vibe was totally justified.

And since his mind had pretty much just stalled with the sheer fucked-upness that was the situation and was completely unable to reboot, Jim simply stuttered dumbly before finally blurting out the only coherent thought he had left.

"Bullshit."

A/N: Figure I should just get this out in the air; this is not a Star Wars crossover. In an episode of TOS Kirk and Spock end up on a planet that looks exactly like 20's Chicago because someone left a book there about it. I am merely trying to make the same parallel, and only for the sake of humor.


	4. Just As Reality Goes Rushing By

Warning: this chapter contains the mention of a very terrible thing being done to a child. I personally hate anything that dims the light in little children's eyes, but I have added it to this chapter because I think it is a very important piece of characterization, as I think it explains a lot of the traits that both of my Kirk's have (the incident in question takes place on Tarsus IV, if that gives anyone a hint). That said I don't by any means condone violence or sexual intent towards children, and I believe that anyone who perpetrates such acts should be punished to the full extent of the law.

Disclaimer: Star Trek and the boys belong to Gene Roddenberry, who I am not. I am only borrowing them with the greatest respect, and promise to return them in (mostly) pristine condition.

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"_The revolution... is successful. But survival depends upon drastic measures. Your continued existence is a threat to the order we have restored; your lives mean slow death to the more valued members of the colony. I, therefore, have no alternative but to sentence you to death. Your execution is so ordered, signed Kodos, governor of Tarsus IV._"

- Anton Karidian (Kodos in disguise) reading a copy of Kodos' death pronouncement (The Conscience of the King)

_Kirk: Euh... look... I-I don't know you.  
Spock: I am Spock.  
Kirk: ...Bullshit._

Spock Prime and Kirk; Star Trek 2009

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"Enterprise to Captain Kirk, come in Kirk." The crackled message broke through the absolute silence that had fallen after his announcement like a shout, but his younger self didn't even move in response, his eyes instead fixed on Jim's face, a dumfounded expression gracing his own.

"Enterprise to Captain Kirk, come in Kirk," the messaged repeated again, only this time the speaker was male and subtly (but clearly) agitated and they both broke their impromptu staring contest to stare instead at the communicator. Jim's heart gave a tiny quiver at the voice, because even through the overwhelming static of the message, it was clearly Spock's voice and after all the time he had spent without it, he could think of no sound more beautiful in the all of the galaxies.

But then in the next instant his heart sank slightly, as reality (or at least some facsimile of it; reality was a bit subjective at this juncture) caught up with him as he realised that yes, while it was Spock, it most certainly wasn't _his_ Spock. And though almost every cell in his body was screaming at him to pick up the communicator and just talk to Spock, he'd come too far to simply accept another substitute and so he instead turned his gaze back to his alternative self and said quietly (as not to startle him; he didn't think it would take much at this point), "If you ever want to get off this planet, I suggest you get that."

His younger self's head whipped back towards him and Jim saw some of the fog clear from his eyes as he nodded in response and reached for the communicator. Never taking his eyes off Jim's own face he answered, "Kirk here," into the device, voice heavy with both irony and incredulousness that Jim hoped wouldn't be picked up by Spock or anyone else on the receiving end (he was going on the assumption that this was one of those things that needed to be explained in person).

It apparently wasn't, thank god, as after a moment Spock's voice crackled through the communicator, tone clearly showing a hint of relief, but still tenser than normal. "What is your status? Are you completely functional, or have you been injured?"

"I'm..." his younger self began, and then paused for a moment and stared at Jim, the irony that was in his voice now crystal clear in his eyes, "fine," he finished, only to continue a second later. "And don't give me any of that crap about fine being unacceptable, because right now those variable definitions are pretty damn appropriate." And Jim had to physically shove one of his knuckles into his mouth to make sure that no one heard his laugher at the response, because if this was what all of his own interactions with Spock had been like then he finally saw why Bones had been always either laughing or trying to pull his own hair out in exasperation.

"We have triangulated your position using the communicator's signal," Spock's voice proclaimed after a moment of silence, clearly ignoring the latter half of his younger self's response, but Jim could hear in his voice as he continued the relief born of the knowledge that his Captain was alright (the not knowing was always the worst part). "However the planets gravitational shifts make extraction impossible for another 3.27 hours. Will your location remain stable for that duration?"

"We should be fine until then," his younger self proclaimed, relief also evident in his voice but Jim felt himself cringe, because there was no way that Spock (the sharpest crayon in all the crayon factories in the world; the box was just too small for his brilliance) hadn't picked up on his slip. Sure enough a moment later Spock's voice piped through the communicator again, the faintest hint of puzzlement and caution (Jim imagined he was worried that his Captain had cracked and was requesting transport for his imaginary friend, though that might actually be more believable than the truth) evident in his tone.

"We, Captain?" And now his younger self winced and whipped his gaze to Jim's, but since Jim really couldn't think of anything constructive to add to the situation (this wasn't exactly something he had a lot of experience in, baring that one fun time with the mirror universe) he simply shrugged his shoulders in response. His younger self rolled his eyes minutely before directing his attention back towards the communicator and replied, "Yeah. I met a _fascinating_ new friend who saved my hide. I thought the least we could do was to give him a ride in return for saving my much beloved captainly ass."

His younger self then followed his words by pressing the communicator into his neck in an effort to muffle the sound and whispered, "You do want a ride, right?"

Jim just gave him a look in response, which he hoped was dripping with the force of his sheer incredulousness at the question (because this planet was the absolute literal definition of a 'tourist trap' and not somewhere he wanted to spend any more time than absolutely necessary). His younger self at least had the grace to look abashed as he mumbled, "Thought I should at least ask," before he took the device off his shoulder.

"That seems...logical," Spock's voice proclaimed in response and Jim was willing to bet that the reluctance in his tone was because he didn't want to admit that his Captain was capable of such a thing, although he supposed that it was also possible he was simply worried about his Captain being in the company of a stranger for three more hours (he could understand that; he'd been known to get into some serious trouble in that amount of time).

"Great, so now that we've got that all settled, I'm going to take some time to get to know my new friend." His younger self proclaimed, and continued in the same jovial tone, "See you in three hours," before turning off the communicator and setting it down on the ground. He then crossed his hands behind his head and leaned back against the wall; the picture of relaxation before he locked his gaze on Jim's and spoke.

"Ok, so we're safe from all those fun-loving psycho natives, and we've got a whole three hours before the Enterprise can beam us up. Want to tell me exactly why I'm supposed to believe you're me?" He enquired and Jim knew the sound of his own voice well enough to know that it was more of a demand than a request (though it was bit shrill for a demand but he was going to attribute that to the fact that his younger self was a bit freaked out; he could relate). Though he supposed he couldn't really fault the tone; he doubted his own patience would have even lasted as long as this young Jim's had in this particular situation, and wasn't like his younger self didn't deserve the truth.

But even in light of that knowledge he hesitated for a moment longer, because despite the obvious fact that there were clearly changes in this time line there was still one thing that he knew had happened. He'd seen it the first time he'd looked into the eyes that were too blue to truly call them his, as clear as day to him (though he doubted anyone one else could see it) and it was the only thing he knew he could offer up as proof, but he desperately wished otherwise. It was still his monster in the closet and he'd had far longer to deal with it than this young Kirk and (as an added bonus) he'd Spock to help him cope; to hold him during nightmares and to sooth the bleeding wounds it had left in his soul. This Jim had not yet had the time or the love that he himself had been given and so he knew that this was going to hurt more than anything else.

But still, it needed to be said and so he looked up and met the impatience on his younger self's face and he fought down the terribly all encompassing urge to stay silent and the words clawed up his throat and escaped as a whisper that echoed like a shout in the silence that followed them.

"I know what happened to you on Tarsus IV."

And as he looked at his younger self's face Jim knew he was right; nothing had ever hurt like this before. As he began to speak he had to brace himself, because he knew the pain was only going to get worse, even though it was practically unbearable now.

"You were thirteen, and Sam was sick." And he petered off for a moment before he forced himself to continue; desperately wishing he could take back every breath. "He was so very sick, and you knew if you didn't get him medication he was going to die. But everyone was starving, and there wasn't any food, much less medication. The only one who had much of anything was...Kodos," and at the name his younger self's head whipped up, and he uttered "No," harshly, in what could have been either a denial or an order to stop, but Jim continued on, the words coming faster now.

"He liked you, you'd always known it. He'd give you extra food, he'd spend time with you, call you special. You were his special boy. But it wasn't free; nothing was. At first you didn't get it, didn't notice he was brushing up against you, didn't think anything of the fact that he'd stare at you out of the corner of his eyes. And because you didn't see it, you went to ask him for medication for Sam. And then you got it; then he made it very clear for you."

"No," his younger self said again, but Jim was beyond stopping; now the words were spewing out uncontrollably, more painful than any wound that could be inflicted on the body.

"He gave you a lollypop, and you hadn't had candy for such a long time, so it tasted sweeter than anything ever had before. But you needed the medication and so you asked, because Sam was going to die and he was your brother and all you had on that planet. And after you asked he came and sat beside you and put his hand on your thigh, and he told you he'd give you the medicine if you'd do one thing for him."

"Don't," his alternative self begged, and the sound was magnified as it echoed in the cave but to Jim it sounded a million miles away, so faint it was barely audible and he continued like he hadn't even heard it.

"Just one simple thing really, because there were so many other people who needed medicine, but if you just did him this one, tiny favour then he'd give it to you so you could save Sam. And you still didn't really get it, but then he made his move, and then you got it and you pulled back, because god, he couldn't want that! But he did and he grabbed you and he told you that if you left Sam would die and it would be entirely your fault, but if you did what he said, Sam would live."

Now his younger self didn't make a sound, just stared at him in horror and Jim wanted to take back every word but he couldn't, and so he stared into his younger self's eyes and made himself finish.

"So you did; you stayed because you needed to save Sam. You made yourself numb, and after you left you gave the medication to Sam and he got better. And you didn't say a word about it, not to Sam and not to anyone; you just pretended it had never happened, and by the time the Federation arrived three weeks later you had nearly convinced yourself it hadn't."

He paused for a moment and waited until his younger self's pain filled eyes had risen from the ground and met his own before he continued. "This is the part you really need to listen to; the really important thing. _It wasn't your fault._ It never was. It was his; you were a child and he was an adult and he took advantage of you, of your desperation and of your love for your brother. It was entirely his fault and I don't want you to ever believe otherwise."

There was silence for a moment, the most terrible silence Jim had ever felt and then his younger self answered, voice so quiet he almost missed it. "I said yes. I could have said no, I could have told him to keep his disgusting hands to himself, but I didn't. I'm sure there was another way; if I'd just looked harder I could have found another way, but I didn't. I said yes."

Jim took a moment to stare at his younger self in an attempt to gage how damaged he was and after he'd concluded that while he was fractured he wasn't shattered (a good sign, as fractures could be healed) he continued, his voice serious and unwavering. "So did I. There was no other way, and he used that to his advantage; to force you into doing something that you wouldn't have under any other circumstance. You were not in the wrong, he was. And believe me, I know it feels like you'll never be able to talk about it, but trust me, because I'm speaking out of experience here, one day you'll have someone who'll love you enough you listen when you're ready."

"Thanks," his younger self finally said after another moment of silence, "I guess that actually means something coming from you, huh?" And Jim nodded, before responding, as quietly as his younger self had, "Bank on it, kid."

After he finished speaking there was a long period of silence, where both he and his younger self stared at anything but each other in an attempt to move past the terrible pain and heaviness of the previous topic. After Jim was finally ready (it was never gone, but he no longer felt like he was struggling to breathe) he returned his gaze to his younger self, and found that his younger self had done the same to him, and was staring rather pensively at him.

"I got old," his younger self said after a few minutes observation, and Jim chucked, mostly because in spite of the fact he was pretty sure he'd just been insulted his younger self was clearly beginning to focus on other things, but also partly because it was such a _him_ thing to say and so he replied, sarcastically but not completely seriously, "Thanks, mini-me."

His younger self looked up at his tone and Jim was surprised to see the slightest flush of embarrassment bloom on his neck and then move upwards to settle on his cheeks. "I didn't mean," his younger self began, nearly stuttering as he furiously back paddled to get his meaning across, "I mean...I didn't. It wasn't supposed to come out like that."

In reply Jim arched an eyebrow in what he considered a decent homage to the work of the master (and they both knew exactly who that was) to show his disbelief, because he wasn't exactly sure how many other meanings could have been derived from his younger self's original statement. Although he wasn't really angry in the least because it wasn't like he didn't get it; getting old wasn't something he was enjoying now, much less something he'd enjoyed thinking about before it had happened. Although with what he knew now, he could truthfully say that it was definitely better than the alternative (you know, not getting old because you were stuck in a temporal anomaly).

"I just," his alternative self continued, and Jim directed his attention back to him, as he paused for a moment in what Jim imagined was an effort to group his thoughts. "I just guess I never thought I would, you know?" His younger self finally declared and his voiced pitched lower, as if he was letting Jim in on a secret he'd never told anyone else, "I thought I'd be long dead before then."

In the wake of his hushed statement Jim looked at him for a moment, taking in the contours of his own face and the eyes he didn't recognise and as he did so he thought about his own life. He thought of all the missions that he'd barely come back from and of all the times that Bones had fixed him up afterwards, nagging him back to life. Next, he thought about all of the times after those missions where he'd sat in his quarters and wondered if the next time would be it; the one where not even Bones would be able to pull him back from the brink and even as he'd done so he'd been aware of the fact that if he had known the answer; if he'd known which one would be the last, he'd still have gone on that mission.

After a moment of silence he replied, in the same soft tone that his younger self had used, "I thought the same thing once." And after he spoke he raised his eyes to meet those foreign ones of his younger self and in that moment he knew that they understood each other perfectly and that, for the first time since he taken off the helmet his younger self completely accepted who he was (there weren't just stages to grief, there were also stages to acceptance and figured that the acceptance of an alternative self was one of the highest, so he'd been willing to give him time).

"What do I...? What should I...?" His younger self started and then trailed off, but Jim easily picked up gist of the half statement, and so he interrupted, "James. I'll be James, you be Jim."

Jim looked at him for a moment, and James knew he was being sized up, before he replied, "You sure? I have a funny feeling you've never been a 'James.'"

He chuckled, low and quiet and so desperately welcome in light of the heaviness that had accompanied their previous discussions, because truer words had never been spoken. James was for doctors, lawyers, bureaucrats and his grandfather and he most certainly was none of those things (although in this universe he _was_ old enough to be his own grandfather) and so he nodded his head in acknowledgement of the point, before replying, "This is your universe, kid. It's your turn to discover what being Captain Jim Kirk of the USS Enterprise is all about." And he accompanied his words by taking his younger self's lead and leaning back, arms folded behind his head as he felt some of that damned heaviness dissipate.

"Besides," he continued, his relaxed state seeping into his voice, "Maybe it's time I gave being James a try. Who knows, it might even suit me," and although Jim chuckled in response, clearly not convinced, James was almost surprised to realise how much he actually meant it. In a way he'd lied to his younger self, because if he was going to be completely honest he had been James before, in the privacy of shared quarters where secrets and love had lived, and he'd give anything to have those times again. Besides, he'd already done everything that being Jim entitled; the missions, the responsibility, the youth and he didn't miss it (alright, he missed the youth a bit, but other than that he didn't miss anything).

"I thought I, I mean you – us, whatever were dead in your universe," Jim said and James broke out of his contemplations at the words and he felt himself tense back up a bit. It was a completely instinctual and illogical response as he could see that Jim hadn't asked because he wanted to wound, but rather because he was curious in a morbid sort of way and as James couldn't see any harm in informing him he sat for a moment and thought about all the things he could say. He could tell him of an eternity stuck in a nightmare world; the aloneness of a life spent surrounded by near perfect facsimiles of all the people he'd ever loved, but in the end there really weren't any words to explain that kind of horror and even if there had been he doubted that he could have forced them out of his throat.

Instead, he simply decided to go with the easy answer and so he fixed his eyes on his younger self's shocking blue ones (he was almost jealous, those probably would have made all those seductions he'd accomplished so much easier) and said, "I was, in essence," and he continued in a carefully casual tone when he saw Jim's mouth open to query. "Hypothetically, if you reached my age and found yourself with an invitation to attend the maiden voyage of the Enterprise-B, I would strongly suggest you decline. Hypothetically speaking, of course," he finished and he figured that he must have gotten his point across (or maybe Jim had seen something in his eyes) because his mouth snapped shut and he dropped the subject without another word.

But of course, Jim's question also gave him an excellent opportunity to turn the conversation towards the topic that had been burning at the tip of his tongue since he'd arrived on this planet and so after a moment he turned his head back towards Jim's and casually enquired, "Who told you I was dead?"

Personally, he enjoyed the look on Jim's face as he spluttered and attempted to back track a great deal (he could see why Spock had occasionally attempted to derail him; it was rather hilarious) and so if he hadn't been so anxious for some confirmation of his theory he would have let it go on for a while, but as he was he asked again, "Who?"

Jim took a moment to visible compose himself before he finally answered, slightly hesitantly (it was almost as if he expected the world to end if he said it), "Spock." And James felt his own heart start to beat faster in response, because now he was closer to finding Spock than he'd been in eons, but he made sure to keep his own voice calm (no need to give away how anxious he was) as he asked, "I don't imagine you're talking about the Spock that serves as your first officer, are you?"

Jim chucked a bit in response and continued with little to no hesitation (James figured he'd realised the universe wasn't going to end, or whatever he'd been afraid of wasn't going to happen), "No. But I have the strangest feeling I might be referring to the one that served as yours. Although he's a good deal older than you are," he younger self finished and James had to physically keep the giant, mile wide cheek splitting smile off his face his face, because that was the confirmation he'd been looking for.

"That makes sense," he said aloud in answer to the question Jim had not quite asked, because it actually did; he might have been trapped in temporal anomaly but Spock hadn't and so he would have aged, which made the Spock that Jim was talking about a prime candidate for his Spock (and he meant that in the most literal of terms).

Jim opened his mouth to query but James cut him off, mostly because he still didn't have any words that would explain why it made sense and so he said "Another time, maybe." And Jim thankfully dropped the subject without another word. Suddenly, another thought hit him with the force of a sledgehammer (and twice the pain of the impact) and so he asked, a slight urgency in his voice, "How much older?" because 'a good deal older' was a bit terrifyingly vague and all the possible implications of it were sending his mind to some very scary places.

Jim, who clearly possessed enough maturity to realise the seriousness of his query (and to not hold his own vagueness against him) promptly replied, "I'm not really good with the whole Vulcan age thing, but he seems like he's still got a lot of living to do," and James couldn't help but let out a tiny sigh of relief, because although he would have taken Spock even if he could have had only one more day; one more hour with him he was intensely relieved that it appeared that fate wasn't so cruel as to give them only that (another fact to support that 'the universe was trying to pay him back theory', as in his experience fate was almost always a cruel bitch; at least now they were getting closer to his preferred method of repayment).

So it was with a much more relaxed air that he asked, "I'm sure there's an interesting story behind his presence here. I'd love to hear it," and then he felt his relaxation falter as Jim got very serious and quiet for a moment, before he slowly and solemnly gave him exactly what he'd asked for, and he realised exactly how wrong he'd been, because there was nothing about it that he loved.

He listened with a heavy heart as Jim told him about Nero, the Romulan who'd blamed Spock for the end of his planet, and who in his madness had opened a rift, creating this universe. And although his heart had already been hurting it nearly broke when Jim then told him, quiet and haltingly about the loss of Vulcan and of the Amanda Grayson of this universe, as he mourned the loss of so many lives that shouldn't have ended. And then, when he finally told him of how Nero had made Spock, his Spock watch the whole thing, in some sadistic ploy to cause the maximum amount of pain he was sure he felt his heart simply shatter as it struggled (and largely failed) to try and bear the pain he knew his gentle lover would have felt at such a sight.

It had been at that point that he'd had to speak, and his pain had escaped in a gasp had formed the word "T'hy'la," almost without his direction. Thankfully it had been too quiet for his younger self to hear (because there was no way he was going to be able to explain that before the Enterprise beamed them up and it most certainly wasn't a conversation he was going to have in front of a crowd), who replied quietly, "He was pretty broken up. It was like Nero knew just how to hurt him," and James nodded slowly in response before speaking.

"That would have been the way. Spock once refused to help me to cut down a Christmas tree unless I agreed to plant a new one in its place. The man who couldn't allow tree homicide would have been crushed to think he'd caused the deaths of all those people." And now he met his younger self's eyes, "And he did blame himself for their deaths, didn't he?"

Jim nodded as he answered, "Yeah. It wasn't logical, but he did it anyways. It was very...human of him." And despite the unbearable pain he felt he had to laugh a bit at the puzzlement in Jim's tone, because a Spock who was in touch with his human side was always an interesting sight to observe. "He can be that way sometimes. It can be the most infuriating dichotomy, but it's what makes him Spock."

Jim was just in the middle of nodding his agreement when Spock's voice piped through the communicator again. "Enterprise to Kirk. Stand by for transport, Captain," and Jim chuckled in response and muttered, very softly and clearly in jest, "Speak of the devil and he shall appear. I guess time also flies when you aren't having fun, huh?"

"You've been spending too much time with Bones," he stated equally quiet and at the thought he felt himself lighten slightly. "Besides," he continued, a bit more jovial, although the pain most certainly wasn't gone yet, "You don't have anything to complain about. At least they give you a warning before they beam you up. In my day they'd just do it, although I still think that was because Bones and Scotty had a running bet on how many times they could beam me up without all of my clothes."

Jim laughed outright in response as he picked up the communicator and stood slowly, the sound especially pleasant in the melancholy atmosphere of the cave and James stood as well, slowly mirroring his posture. "Ready," Jim announced into the communicator after they were both standing, and Spock's voice piped through the device in response. "Affirmative. Fifteen seconds to transport."

Just as the light of the transporter appeared in front of his face Jim asked, "Who won the bet?" and James chuckled for a second before he answered, "Bones did. He always knew to bet on the high side," and then he closed his eyes and let the strange full body tingling that always accompanied transportation carry him away.

When the weightlessness had disappeared and he could feel solid ground beneath his feet again (it had felt too much like being inside the Nexus again to be truly comfortable) and the twinkling light of the transporter had finally cleared from his eyes he opened them and his first sight made him freeze because in front of him stood his crew, as if it was golden days of their five year mission all over again. And though he had been aware, at least academically that they would be and that they weren't really _his_ crew per say, they were the closest he'd had in an eternity and nothing could have really prepared him for the sight of all his old friends (his family), so young and vibrant before him.

And they were all there; Chekov (who looked about twelve) and Sulu, both so god damn young and not even in love yet. There was Uhura, of the beautiful singing voice and the fiery spirit, who was somehow even lovelier then he'd remembered her, and his favourite crazy Scotsman, who'd always had a miracle ready to pull out of his ass when they'd needed one. And there was Bones, his oldest friend and the man who'd loved bourbon (but not to excess) and his daughter and who'd beaten all the odds to keep him in one piece over all the years (not an easy to task, by anyone's standard). And of course, last but never least there was Spock, for whom no words would every truly suffice in explaining how much he'd missed seeing him (even if he wasn't exactly the one he was looking for).

He was brought of his observations by the sound of Jim's voice (and he only just barely stopped himself from raising a hand to his mouth to see if it was moving; there were apparently still some things he needed to adjust to), which broke the complete silence that had fallen in the transporter room. "Hey guys, look at what I found! Another me! Can we keep him, please?"

And Jim couldn't help but laugh aloud, because while he'd seen his crew (and by default this crew) at the absolute best and worst of times, he didn't think he'd ever seen them this gobsmacked (even this universes Spock was gaping, and that didn't happen often, despite all the crazy things he'd done to warrant it). So, it was with a tremendous smile on his face and laugher staining his voice that he turned his gaze towards Bones, who was still supporting his younger self, although his limbs had gone slack with shock and gestured with his head towards them.

"I wouldn't drop him, Bones," he said, jest clear in his voice. "I don't think he needs anymore head trauma, do you?" And he ignored Jim's half hearted protest of, "Hey!" to instead turn towards Spock, because there was one phrase that he'd been dying to borrow for a very long time.

"And yes, Mr. Spock, it is quite fascinating," he announced, and then he took another look at the group and smiled once again, because yeah, this promised to be a very interesting ride.

A/N: So, that was my interpretation of Tarsus IV. For anyone who isn't familiar with TOS, Tarsus IV is actually canon for Kirk (it is mentioned in the TOS episode _The Conscience of the King_), however what he experienced there is unknown and so the incident with Kodos that I mentioned is entirely my own creation. I think the quote I selected explains the situation relatively well but if not then here is a ten second explanation. Kirk was sent to a planet called Tarsus IV around the age of 13. Due to a loss of resources the colony leader (Kodos) decided to execute half of the civilians to allow the other half to live. Kirk survived and was one of only 9 people who were able to identify his face (which is important in the TOS episode).

As previously mentioned, if anyone had a problem with the implications that I made I am sorry, but I feel that an experience like that would help to create the wonderful Kirkian determination they both have. The next chapter will be lighter, as well as being in new Kirk's point of view. Also, I'm going to always refer to new Kirk as "Jim" and TOS Kirk as "James" from now on, in an attempt to decrease the confusion between them (although it might actually end up increasing the confusion, so please let me know if it does).


	5. Things Not in the Universal Translator

Things The Univeral Translator Isn't Equipped to Handle

Disclaimer: Star Trek and the boys belong to Gene Roddenberry, who I am not. I am only borrowing them with the greatest respect, and promise to return them in (mostly) pristine condition.

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_**Bones**__: You know why you're not afraid to die, Spock? You're more afraid of living. Each day you stay alive is just one more day you might slip and let your human half peek out. That's it, isn't it? Insecurity. Why you wouldn't know what to do with a genuine warm decent feeling.  
__**Spock**__: Really, doctor?  
__**Bones**__: I know. I'm worried about Jim too._

- McCoy and Spock stuck in a prison cell (_Bread and Circuses)_

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Bones, as it turned out, did drop him, although Jim decided he wasn't going to hold it against him (as he completely empathized with the whole 'freaking out' thing). As a positive, it did galvanize the rest of the crew back into action, (as a negative it really hurt, but one more "owie" wasn't the end of the world) who all jolted out of the spell they had been in at the "umph" he'd let out as he'd hit the floor.

Although in hindsight Jim wondered if they all hadn't been better frozen in shock, as the moments that followed his exclamation couldn't be described as anything other than an uncontrollable flurry of motion. Chekov started speaking in very past paced Russian (Jim only spoke a bit of the language but he'd bet that the phrase "temporal anomalies were discovered first by a Russian" was in there somewhere) and a second later Sulu started speaking very halted Russian in an attempt to calm him down (and he'd also be willing to bet that the reason why Sulu could speak Russian was a very interesting story).

Scotty took it upon himself to move well within an inch of his elder self and started to ask about the quality of future sandwiches (that apparently was a thing with him) and the nacelles of the warp core while Uhura gently tried to pull him back while she sneaked highly obvious and wide eyed glances at his elder self. Bones seemed to have completely forgot about him (all around he was beginning to feel a bit neglected) as he moved to occupy the space that Uhura had just gotten Scotty to vacate, where he then whipped out his tricorder and began to scan his elder self with an incredulous look on his face.

Spock was apparently the only who was still aware of the fact that Jim was still in the room, as he immediately strode over to where he was lying sprawled on the floor and picked him up and as he supported him he gave Bones (who was still scanning his elder self with a slightly obsessive air) what Jim figured was the Vulcan equivalent of the 'evil eye' (and the Vulcan equivalent was pretty fuckin' scary if he did do say himself).

"You should be in sickbay being examined," Spock chastised him and Jim would have protested (he actually wasn't the one holding up the sickbay progression this time) if he hadn't realised that from the projection of his voice the comment was mostly directed at Bones.

A second after Spock's proclamation Bones's tricorder made several very 'beepy' noises which signalled the completion of the scan and Bones stared at the device for another moment before incredulously replying, "Apparently, both of him should. God, just what the universe needs; two Kirks."

His older self (James, he had to remember to call him James) chuckled minutely before he replied, "It saddens me that I missed this abuse. No offense Bones, because it's not that I don't want your company, but I'd rather meditate the head ache away. It'll likely be less painful than the array of hyposprays that you'd give me, most of which I'd be allergic to."

In response Bones started to shake the tricorder vigorously from side to side in a slightly frantic motion and after a moment of silence where everyone just stared at him Jim finally gave in and asked the question that he imagined was on the front of everyone's mind. "What are you doing Bones?" He queried hesitantly and Bones whipped his head up and stared at him for a moment.

"He wants to meditate," he replied and he waved his hands in a wide circle in an attempt to express his point (or to simply express some of that pent up frustration; Jim wasn't sure which). "And the only thing that explains why James T. Kirk wants to mediate like he was some kind of hobgoblin is that this thing is broken and he's not you."

Jim couldn't help but chuckle (because in all the craziness this very characteristic Bones response was somehow remarkably grounding) and he started to move forward towards Bones, but he was stopped by a restrictive pressure on his arm that kept him where he was. He looked up the arm that was holding him in place until he was staring at Spock's impassive face and into those nebulous too human eyes and just as he thought he saw something in them he felt Spock loosen his grip, so slowly that it was almost like he was reluctant to do so (but that had to be just his imagination). However he had time to analyse that later and so after a second he pulled free and walked over to Bones, gingerly taking the tricorder from his hands.

"He's me Bones, or I'm him. The details are a little sketchy, but he is definitely James T. Kirk." And then he looked at James for a moment and he continued, "And yes, the meditation thing is a little weird, but I'm sure he got a – if you'll forgive me – logical explanation for it."

He suddenly felt his vision flicker and a familiar whiteness flashed on the sides of his eyes and he wavered on his feet and in the next second Spock was there again, supporting him again, as if he'd never left. He leaned into the embrace for a second (one didn't get to be the youngest Captain in the fleet without learning how to seize opportunities that presented themselves), before he turned his head back towards Bones. "Now, at the risk of sounding unlike myself, let's go to sickbay so I can stop bleeding on this pretty floor, and we'll let the old man do his thing in private."

He turned his gaze towards James before he asked "My quarters ok? I figure you can find them by yourself," and James chuckled before he replied, irony colouring his voice. "That should be fine. Enjoy your examination," and he followed his words with a tiny bow in the crew's direction, before he walked out of the transporter room and headed down the hall in the direction of his room (apparently the Enterprise was still the same; that was also somehow almost comforting).

At his departure Bones seemed to snap back to himself and after muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like "Of all the people I could have sat beside on that shuttle," he looked around a decreed loudly, "Alright, fun's over. Everyone back to work."

And although the crew obeyed and disappeared rather quickly (he figured they were dying to get back to the bridge and gossip about this new development) Spock stayed attached to his side and Jim watched as Bones rolled his eyes before he ordered. "You too, Mr. Spock. Somebody has to run this overgrown flying tugboat while Jim's incapacitated, and although I'm at a loath to admit it, that person has to be you."

This time Jim knew he wasn't imagining the reluctance (although he guessed that might have been because he didn't want to admit that Bones had a valid point) in Spock's voice as he replied, "Despite your crassness, you are correct, Doctor. I will come to check on the Captain's status after you have preformed your examination." And after another moment of hesitation (or maybe it was some left over trauma his mother being killed, although if that was the case he couldn't understand why it only seemed to happen around him) Spock gently passed him off to Bones, before striding quickly away in the direction of the bridge.

"We should get you a wheelchair Jim," Bones said after Spock had left and Jim couldn't help but protest, because he might have been beaten up but he was hardly invalid and so he replied, "Forget it Bones. Let's exercise some of those muscles of yours and get me to sick bay the old fashioned way. Who knows, it might even do you some good."

Bones scoffed in response before shouldering more of his weight as they started to walk sedately towards sickbay. "Don't start with me kid; I'm not the one who's hobbling. I'm also not blessed with our pointy eared friend's Vulcan strength, so don't give me any grief about the pace. And speaking about our resident hobgoblin, only you would end up in a situation like this. What, did you feel left out because Spock had an older version of himself in this universe and you didn't?"

"Yeah Bones, that's exactly what happened," he replied sarcastically, but without any real sting because verbal sparring with Bones was one of his favourite aspects of their friendship. "The universe lives to sooth the wounds my ego takes, and so it just magically dropped an alternative self on top of me. It's all so obvious; I can't figure out why that theory didn't occur to me."

"Don't sass me, boy child wonder. I'm a doctor, not a temporal anomaly expert," Bones parried as they finally reached sickbay, and Jim chuckled in response before the laugh petered off into a cough that sounded vaguely wet and unhealthy (and now he was finally starting to worry about lasting health related affects; hey, before he'd had other things hogging his thoughts).

"Damn it, Jim," Bones muttered as he loaded him onto a bed and pulled out a tricorder practically out of thin air (Jim decided he actually wasn't sure he wanted to know where he'd gotten it from) and begun scanning. "That sounded like internal bleeding. What did they do to you while you were down there? And while we're on the subject, what's with the stupid outfit? Is that some kind of cruel and unusual new punishment?"

"Nope," he replied, as Bones moved the tricorder over his abdomen. "Just some boring, garden variety torturous interrogation methods; nothing fun or overly exciting to report. And the outfit; well that's just the cherry on top the cake that is the sheer fucked-upness of the situation but that's one cake that will definitely keep until later."

Bones snorted in response and the tricorder picked that moment to do its beeping thing and he watched as Bones took a moment to look at the results before letting out a huff of frustration in his direction and reaching for something that looked like the dermal regenerator. After watching Bones fiddle with the device for a few moments he finally gave into his curiosity and asked, his tone light (because if he had been dying he figured Bones would have said something by now), "What the diagnosis Doc? Am I every going to dance again?"

"You will as long as I don't break your damn legs as a treatment for terminal stupidity," Bones replied, his exasperation clear in his voice. "Besides the pretty technicolor rainbow of bruises you've got, your spleen is swollen about three sizes too big and your left kidney is a hair's breathe away from rupturing. You couldn't have missed the pain, why didn't you say anything?"

"I had other shit on my mind, as you very well know. Besides, I've had way worse than this," and then he winced as Bones started to remove the uniform. "Ouch, watch it. What about that Hippopotamus Oath Bones? Do no harm and all that other bullshit." And Bones glared at him for a moment before he gently (well the Bones version of gentle; he was still clearly still ticked about the concealing the severity of his injury thing) pulled rest of the uniform off before he started passing the device over his abdomen.

"The _Hippocratic_ Oath doesn't say anything about danger magnets like you. Another hour or two and I would have been having this conversation with your corpse. Not even you're indestructible, Jim and it wouldn't kill you to remember that. In fact it might even do the opposite." Bones finished, and Jim couldn't help but feel a bit like he was a kid in his mother's kitchen again and was being chastised for taking cookies from the jar. In response he decided to employ his childhood solution; he put on a suitably cowed expression and stared innocently up at Bones with his baby blues (he'd used to make his lip quiver when he was a kid, but he figured that would be one step too far now).

Bones simply rolled his eyes before he pulled the device away and Jim shrugged, because at least the move hadn't been a complete failure (the guilt inducing lecture had stopped, although sometimes it was nice to know that Bones cared enough to give him one). His happiness was rather short lasted though as Bones returned to the side of the bed a moment later with a hypospray in his hand and a smirk on his face.

"Pants off Evil Knievel. Time for a fun shot of tetanus to get rid of any of those space bugs you might have pick up on that planet," and Jim couldn't help but instinctively cringe because yeah, this had the ear marks of Bonesian revenge all over it. "That shot does not have to go in my ass," he protested, and Bones's smirk only increased as he replied, "I don't see a medical degree on your wall Jim, so drop those drawers and we can get this over with."

And because he was perfectly aware of the fact that if he didn't, Bones would find and even more painful place to jab him, he yanked his briefs down to expose one cheek and just as he felt the prick of the injection, he heard a distinctively non-Bones voice issue stiffly from the direction of the doorway. "If I am interrupting something I apologise," Spock said, and while Bones laughed out right Jim looked over his shoulder and took in Spock's profile (stiff posture, hands stiffly clasped behind his back and he oddly seemed to be glaring at Bones), before leisurely pulling his briefs back up (because hey, when opportunity knocks).

"No Spock, I was just giving Jim the kick in the ass that he needs," Bones replied as he tried to wring the laughter out of his voice and Jim took the opportunity to put his pants back on, because he could easily see this becoming a conversation he didn't want to have in his underwear.

"I trust the Captain is now in optimal health," Spock said as he took another step into the room, his tone still very stiff and his glare still directed at Bones (maybe they'd had a fight while he'd been on stuck on that planet; he should ask Bones afterwards). "I'm fine Spock," he began, but before he could continue Bones cut him off with a scoff.

"Yeah, though it's by no means due to him. Another hour or two and he'd of been doing a first grade impression of a dead fish." And at Bones exclamation Jim could help but notice that Spock's entire body became impossibly tenser for a moment (he seemed so brittle that Jim wondered if he'd snap if a gust of wind blew by him; not that wind was a big concern in space), before Spock seemed to force himself to relax before their eyes.

"I am...relieved that the situation did not come to that," Spock replied tonelessly, and before Bones could comment (likely to harp on the fact that relief was an emotion) Spock turned his gaze towards him and continued. "I trust you will soon be returning to the bridge," he said and Jim couldn't help but stare at him for a moment (because there was definitely something about this conversation he was missing) before he answered, "Yeah. As soon as Bones clears me I was going to go check on our new passenger and then head right up."

Spock nodded minutely in response and replied, "I will see you then Captain. Doctor," and then after one more look at Jim he turned and swiftly (and stiffly) left. Jim watched him go, and as soon as the doors had swished shut Bones whipped around to face him and demanded, "All right, what the hell was that and don't you dare try to deny it Jim and say nothing, because I might just be a backwater doctor from bumfuck nowherevilles but I'm not blind and he definitely seemed tenser than usual."

And Jim just stared at him, dumfounded because for once he really didn't have any idea what was going on (something that usually happened in conversations with Spock, not with Bones and the reversal was a bit unsettling) and so he replied, "What are you talking about Bones? Spock was just being Spock; he would have been that way if it was anyone one else who'd been hurt. And what do you mean 'tenser than usual'?"

And Bones just shook his head at him like he'd grown another head again (he actually hadn't been trying to sleep with that priestess, honest) before he replied, "Sometimes you are the dumbest smart person I've ever met. You're telling me you seriously don't have any idea what I'm talking about? I mean really, when have you ever seen Spock act like that with anyone else in sickbay?"

Jim gave that some thought for a second and when he found himself drawing a blank he replied, "Ok, granted nothing comes to mind, but nine times out of ten I am the one who's in sickbay, so that doesn't say much."

Bones scoffed again before he fired back, "That says everything! You want to know what Spock did while you were stuck on that planet?" And before Jim even had time to answer affirmatively (only because he was very curious about why Bones seemed to think it was important; it had nothing to do with the 'something' he felt for Spock...really) Bones barrelled right on.

"He did what he does every time you get your ass stuck on some rock where the natives want to tear you apart; he got all Vulcan withdrawn and concerned. He acted like he was afraid of losing something precious; something that he couldn't replace. And that might have thrown me the first time I figured it out but after a while I just guessed you guys were dancing around the idea of starting up something and you were keeping on the down low and you'd tell me when you were ready. But apparently you're both so god damn blind you can't see it!"

And Jim knew he was gaping now because if he was getting this right, then Bones thought he and Spock were the Enterprise's Romeo and Juliet (and Spock would have to be Juliet because he absolutely refused to be the woman, not that Romeo was really all that manly). "What?" He finally managed to get out, because seriously, he had a relatively good eye for this kind of thing (and this particular thing was something he'd very much kept his eye out for) and there was no way Spock was into him like that (because that kind of stuff only happened in his wildest dreams).

"Come on, Jim. I know you," Bones said quietly as he sat down on the medi-bed beside him. "You're honestly going to sit there and tell me you don't feel something - beyond friendship - for the pointy eared bastard?"

He sat silently for a moment and tried to organize his thoughts and after he was reasonably sure his words were going to come out in a straight line he said, "No Bones, I'm not saying that," and his voice was barely a whisper because this was definitely one of the things he'd been hoping he'd never have to say aloud. "I do feel...something for Spock that goes way beyond friendship, but it's definitely a one way thing. Spock's not into me like that," and he continued as he saw Bones open his mouth to protest, because this was something he had to make Bones see.

"Really Bones, Spock's not in love with me. I'm just not the guy that has that kind of stuff happen to him. I'm the guy who gets kidnapped more than fairytale princesses and I'm the guy who meets his alternative self on a planet in the middle of nowhere. I'm the guy who manages to save the earth on the same week as he ruins an impromptu declaration of love; the guy whose birthday is on the most painful day of his mother's life. I'm the guy who used to love them and then get left behind and so I decided to become the guy who didn't love them and then left them. I'm the guy who just keeps coming back, even when the odds are so against him he really shouldn't and that takes up all that the luck that the universe allotted to me. There just isn't any left for being the guy who gets his true love, you know?"

Bones was quiet for a moment and Jim kept his eyes fixed on the bed sheet because he didn't want to see the pity he knew would be in his eyes and he didn't look up until Bones began to speak again. "Even if you think that, there's still the fact that you feel something and I know that Spock feels something, even if you don't believe me on that. And although I'm a doctor and not a relationship councillor I am your friend, and the Jim Kirk that I know wouldn't let something like that slip through his fingers if there was even the tiniest chance he could catch it."

He chuckled humorously in response (because the fact that they were actually having this conversation would have been funny if the conversation itself hadn't been so damn depressing) before he said, "Normally you'd be right Bones, but to borrow your vase metaphor, this is one of those times when you keep your hands off, because if you dropped it and it broke you won't know how to go on. The friendship I've got with Spock now is great and one day, if I don't screw it up, it's going to be life changing and so I'm not going to do anything to jeopardise that. I'll just keep on keeping on and everything can stay as it is, because the way it is now might not be the best, but it's a million times better than it could be."

He after he finished speaking he stood up abruptly in indication of the conclusion of the conversation and begun to put on the new shirt that one of the nurses had replicated for him. Once he was finished he started to walk towards the door, but he stopped at the sound of Bones's voice. "I promise this is the last I'll say on the subject, to anyone," he said with a meaningful look in Jim's direction and Jim nodded his thanks because a ship wide circulation of the news was the last thing that he needed.

"And a part of me still can't completely believe I'm saying this, because playing cheerleader to you and the hobgoblin wasn't a role I ever thought I play, but there are some things you just can't ignore. A ticking time bomb, a smoke alarm and you and Spock and your "something" all fall into that category because the consequences of what happens when you ignore them are just too huge to deal with. Keep that in mind, will you?" Bones finished and Jim nodded before he responded, "I will. And thanks, Bones," before he walked out of sickbay.

As he walked towards his quarters, his thoughts were a complete maelstrom, but one stuck out above all the rest; the fact that Bones thought Spock felt something (a "something" that was like his "something") for him. Because really, Spock having...feelings for him wasn't only very unlikely and very unwise (given his track record) but completely impossible for a number of reasons. Beyond the fact that he was pretty sure that homosexuality was the epitome of illogicalness (no new Vulcan babies were going to be produced out of that union) he really was good at spotting the signs of sexual interest; in fact he'd made a god damn art form out of it. He could tell from a single glance across a crowded bar how many people were checking out his ass, and out of that number how many of them would let him take them home (Uhura aside although in his defence he had been a bit buzzed when he attempted that). So, given his proficiency in the subject, the fact that he hadn't seen Spock display any signs of that kind actually meant something (it was also as depressing as hell and it only as served a further proof for that whole "love curse" theory he had, but he was digressing).

But despite that Bones was right out one thing; Spock did have a tendency to act a bit out of character when he was in danger. After he'd developed his interest in Spock he'd done some studying on Vulcan behaviour (because background research was very important in all pursuits) and of all the "interesting" Vulcan mannerisms (actually some of them really had been interesting although the majority of them had been dryer than dirt) the pacifism thing was what drew his attention now. Vulcan's were very big on the whole "non violence" thing; they didn't kill animals for food and their most popular self defence move was the nerve pinch (which was admittedly very effective but an exceeding passive form of violence) and normally Spock was a complete follower of that rule; except when he was in danger. When he was in danger Spock tended to fire first and ask questions later and he meant that in the most literal sense (there were a few Captain kidnapping civilizations that could have testified to that, if they hadn't been blasted to kingdom come by photon torpedoes).

He'd always written it off as friendly concern or some Vulcan form of post traumatic stress (that had seemed logical in a certain way) but Bones had apparently decided that it and the fact that Spock tended to act a bit weird when he was returned safely indicated something else entirely and now that he'd planted the idea in his head Jim couldn't stop thinking about it. And that was a terribly dangerous thing; the end of everything really because if he got to hung up on that theory then he'd let himself believe, let himself love (because at this point the only reason he wasn't in love with Spock was because he simply refused to allow himself to be) and it would all be over. Spock would likely transfer off the ship and then he'd not only lose the best first officer in the fleet but the most precious friendship he'd ever had and so really, that was that.

Thankfully he'd reached his quarters by then, which provided him with an excellent distraction for his thoughts; the alternative self that was currently sitting in his room doing, of all things, meditating. And because he had meant what he'd said to Bones; the meditating thing was a bit weird (and yes, he knew that weird was a bit of a given when one was referring to the behaviour of one's elder alternative self) it was more curiosity than concern (not that he wasn't concerned, but really was there a more perfect way to peak into what your own future had in store than this?) that had him knocking on his own door for permission to enter. After a moment he heard his own voice (mind fuck, seriously) say, "Come in, please," and although he felt a bit like Alice falling down the rabbit hole he did as he was told.

The first thing he noticed after the door swished silently closed behind him was despite how cold it was in the room, his elder self seemed to be sweating, as if he was burning up from the inside out. It was a bit of a minute thing maybe, but it triggered his "weird shit-o-meter" (at least more than everything else in the last day) and so he immediately shelved his curiosity in favour of his concern and asked quietly, "Are you alright?"

James, who had been previously looking at his hands (that had been resting on his crossed legs; meditation looked really uncomfortable) looked up at the sound of his voice and chuckled dryly before he said, "I'm fine. I figure this is some kind of after affect; like jet lag but only for time travel. It's more irritating than dangerous so please don't call Bones; I'm sure you understand why."

"He is a little over zealous with the hyposprays," Jim agreed as he rubbed his ass in sympathy and although he wasn't completely sold on the whole "time lag" idea it made more sense than any of the ones that were popping into his mind and so he pushed the weird vibe back and sat on one of his chairs across from James. "I'm not sure if I actually thanked you for saving me, so thanks," he said a bit awkwardly and James laughed out loud before he replied, "I think letting you die would have gone against my highly developed sense of self preservation. Beyond that I would have been depriving you of a very bright future - which I will not give you anymore hints about – so don't even ask. Besides, that was not the way you wanted history to remember you."

"What, are against the concept of cheating? Maybe Bones was right and that tricorder was busted," he said jokingly because and as he did wondered if this was the closet he'd ever get to having a conversation with a father (really, considering his life it wasn't a completely insane thought). James scoffed before he asked, an ironically quizzical edge to his voice, "You discovered an unorthodox way around the Kobyashi Maru too, huh? What did your Spock think of that of?"

"You have got to stop doing that! He was pissed and then there was some less than fun interactions. Are you sure you won't tell me about that future? Because it you did that could save me a lot of time and hardship." He asked, at least half seriously because he figured his older self was his best chance at getting that information (Spock's elder self was a cryptic as his own Spock, fricking Vulcan sensibilities). James just shook his head indulgently in response before he replied, "Now where would be the fun in that? And really, life should be fun."

"You're even vaguer than Spock, your Spock I mean," he muttered in response, a bit petulantly because he was pretty sure he was just being messed with at this at this point (which admittedly did bear the ear marks of something he'd do). James smirked in response, but after a second the smirk melted into a grimace which his elder self forced off his face so fast that Jim almost thought he imagined it. Before he had the chance to call him on it James spoke and although his voice was casual Jim was pretty sure that it wasn't the kind of casual that came naturally.

"Not to seem that I'm trying to get rid of you, but I'd like to call in that ride you promised me in that cave, because although this is a strangely enjoyable talk there's somewhere else I need to be right now." And Jim looked at him carefully for a moment and watched as a single bead of sweat tricked down his brow before he replied, "I'm going to take a shot at that clairvoyance thing and guess that New Vulcan's the place you want to be. How I'd do?"

"Not bad kid," James replied and Jim noted the fact that his elder self seemed to relax at bit at the notion that they'd he heading towards Spock (apparently this wasn't as great of a distraction as he'd hoped). But he stood in response, because as far as he could see the destination was purely academic anyways (breaking your promise to your elder self was definitely uncool) and so he as he brushed some grit of his pants he answered, "A deals a deal. But it'll take at least a day and a half to get there. Will that be alright?"

And James seemed to disappear into himself for a moment before he looked up and replied, "That should be fine," and Jim nodded in his head once in response before he headed towards the door. He had just reached the mouth when he was stopped by James's (his, god this shit was weird) voice. "You didn't ask me why I want to go to where Spock is."

And at the question he stopped for a moment and simply thought; about what he'd seen in that meld and about his own Spock and all those twisted and complicated feelings before he quietly replied, "I didn't have to."

"Really?" His James replied and his tone made Jim slightly nervous that he'd revealed to much about something that was apparently only a problem in his universe (ironic almost, that this would be the one thing that he and his elder self didn't share) and so his response was quick and almost a bit rushed in the delivery. "Yeah, I mean you guys have an epic friendship. I'd want to go if I had that to."

After an excruciatingly long moment in which Jim had to physically push down his anxiety his elder self finally responded, "Ah. Well it certainly is an epic of some kind," and in his relief that his elder self hadn't picked up on anything he ignored the strange humour in James's tone and instead simply nodded his farewell before quickly beating a path to the bridge before his elder self decided that he wanted to take a closer look into the dynamic that he and his own Spock shared (because there was no way he was explaining that to his elder self; he could hardly explain it to himself).

At his fairly brisk pace it only took him a few minutes to reach the bridge and by the time he had he was relatively calm again. Although as soon as he walked through the bridge doors his calm took a serious dip as he was bombarded with questions (most of them about the presence of his elder self) from pretty much all directions. Since the multitude of voices made it almost impossible to catch even a single question he put his fingers in his mouth and whistled once loudly (much better than Pike had in his opinion; he was very serious about dares) and after he was sure that the silence that had fallen in response was going to stick he put on his best diplomacy face (and yes, he did actually have one) and began to speak.

"I am fine and your concern is so incredibly touching," he said in his best "it's all about me voice" and he waited until he got his customary response; Uhura rolled her eyes and Chekov looked like he was going to cry (sarcasm apparently wasn't invented in Russia) before he continued. "The other me also happens to be fine and before you all start talking at the same time let me first say that I don't know why or how he's here so please don't waste your time asking. Also, in light of the fact we promised him a ride since he did your jobs and saved my ass we're going to be changing course a bit. Do we have enough juice to make it to New Vulcan at warp factor 7, Scotty?" And Scotty nodded a bit dumbly in response while Spock narrowed his eyes and Jim couldn't help but squirm a bit under his gaze (because this was something that could definitely lead to that conversation he never wanted to have).

Thankfully anything incriminating he might have said was prevented by Uhura who piped up and asked, "New Vulcan, Captain? The admirals aren't going to like that and I'm not sure what you expect to offer them as justification," and he couldn't help but chuckle (because he could just imagine the look on Komack's face if he went with the truth in that conversation) before he replied, "Let me worry about that Lieutenant. I figure I can call in one of those 'you owe us because we saved the world' favours and if that doesn't work I can always try lying. Now if unless anyone has anyone other questions related to the logistics of getting us to our new destination, I suggest we all get back to work," he said and he tried to make his voice sound as chastising as he possibly could (although he didn't image it was all that strict; discipline wasn't really his thing).

It apparently worked better than he thought (or perhaps his crew were just waiting for another chance to gossip; he'd put more money on that than the former) because they all returned to their stations with little or no fuss. Jim however did not end up going to his own station (chair, but it had enough buttons to be a station) right away, because Spock was still giving him very discreet (but very inquisitive) looks from his station and so instead of heading towards 'The Chair' he walked over to Spock and leaned casually on his computer.

"Something on your mind Mr. Spock?" he asked quietly and Spock seemed to pause for a moment before he asked, "I was merely curious as to the haste with which you are attempting to have us arrive at New Vulcan, Captain. The dilithium crystals would likely function more smoothly at warp factor 4," and Jim nodded his acknowledgement as it was a perfectly valid point (and even one that was related to the logistics of their journey, he was almost impressed) before he answered, "You are right commander, but our...guest was looking a bit under the weather when I visited him and I've got the strangest feeling that haste might be the only way to go with this one."

After he finished he waited for a quip about the unscientific and unreliable results that were ascertained when one made decisions with their gut, but Spock surprised him by instead asking, in the most bizarrely flat tone, "Could you describe the symptoms on which you have based your diagnosis of your elder self's health on please?" And Jim took a good look at Spock (because there was definitely something he wasn't saying) before he answered, "He seemed to be sweating even though the room was ice cold and he seemed a bit over controlled, like he was trying to hide something from me. Why, do you have any ideas on what's wrong with him?"

Spock looked up in response, although Jim had the feeling that he was looking at the wall behind him instead of actually looking at him before he answered in that same bizarre tone, "I can think of at least one possible aliment that would cause such symptoms. If I was allowed to be excused from my shift I could meld with your counterpart to either prove or disprove my theory." And although Jim was pretty sure that Spock was participating in the Vulcan equivalent to lying (being remarkably vague and calling it logic as a smokescreen) he was still worried about his alternative self and if Spock could help then he was all for it (also, although he figured his chances of squeezing details about his future out of Spock weren't much better than with his their two elder selves it was worth a shot) and so he so he said, "Consider yourself excused Mr. Spock, and please report back to the bridge afterwards to rely your findings."

Spock nodded stiffly in response and stood slowly before he stood walked (still very stiffly) towards the exit and Jim watched his back retreating until the doors closed and he could no longer see it. As he did so he couldn't help but feel a like he was missing the most vital part of the jig saw puzzle and therefore couldn't clearly see the picture. However after a minute of frustrated contemplations he finally decided it would simply be easier to wait for Spock to bring his cryptic (and well formed) Vulcan ass back to the bridge so he could simply ask and so he slowly straightened up from his potion on the computer and leisurely walked the five steps back to his chair and sat down.

He'd just gotten settled and comfortable when he heard Chekov mutter to Sulu, "This ship is a bit veird," and in response he had to psychically shove one of his knuckles in to his mouth at the exclamation to keep his slightly hysterical laughter from escaping his throat because this; this wasn't weird at all. He'd been kidnapped by Star Wars wannabes, rescued by his alternative self and now they were on the way to New Vulcan to reunite said alternative self (who might or might not be suffering from some quasi-mind aliment) with Spock's alternative self (and, as a plus Spock was acting stiffer and odder than usual). He was pretty sure that they'd passed weird a few million miles ago and had simply entered the realm of the god damn impossible. And as for the laugher? It wasn't because Chekov had just stated the obvious (it was really more like a fact) but rather that he'd finally accepted the fact that really, this shit only happened to him.


	6. Wounds Acquired in the Pursuit of Fire

In the Pursuit of Fire (Somebody's Bound to Get Burned)

Disclaimer: Star Trek and the boys belong to Gene Roddenberry, who I am not. I am only borrowing them with the greatest respect, and promise to return them in (mostly) pristine condition.

* * *

**McCoy**: _Jim, you gotta get Spock to Vulcan._  
**Kirk**: _Bones, I will, I will, as soon as this mission is complete..._  
**McCoy**: _NO! Now, right away. You don't get him to Vulcan in a week, eight days at the outside, he'll die. He'll die, Jim!_

- **Kirk** and **McCoy** (Amok Time; also known in some circles as "that episode that pretty much created K/S")

* * *

Fire. He was clearly on fire, though only he could see the flames.

But despite their limited visibility they were most definitely there, intangible and yet more real than anything had ever been, scorching and burning the edges of his consciousness until he wondered why he was not simply a pile of ash laying on the floor. Without reprieve they raged, taking possession over his mind and his body; practically singeing his thoughts and causing sweat to drip down his back and face, only to evaporate against the unnatural heat of his skin. And so it was this that he had not told Jim; this that he had done his best to withhold, because he was not a stranger to this fire.

A lifetime ago; after V'ger, after Spock's death and resurrection and after their bonding (because after everything that had happened nothing would have stopped them from bonding) he had felt these flames. They had been living on Vulcan at the time and he had been called away off planet for a three week period to aid in some mind numbingly boring Starfleet bureaucracy snag and by the middle of the second week he had been burning almost like he was now. All those years ago it had taken him a few day to connect two and two (it had been their first one and it hadn't been on the regular schedule; being resurrected could do that to ones biological functions apparently) but now it didn't take him long; now he had experience to base it on and so he knew that this; the impossible fire that had seeped into his veins and replaced the blood that normally flowed there, was the call of his mates pon farr as it was transmitted across their once weakened bond to him.

But that was only part of the reason why he had cut his conversation with Jim short, why he had called in his favour and why he was so anxious now (and he was anxious, the feeling like tiny bubbles that crawled up and down his spine and brought a coolness that held no relief). No, instead it was because this time there was something different about these flames, something new and terrifyingly unnamed that seemed to linger just beyond the reach of his conscious. Before they had come slowly; a tiny heat in the small of his back that had slowly moved through out body until he had thought he had been suffering from a fever, until he'd finally received a call on the link that had alerted him to the reality and had sent him rushing back to Vulcan as fast as the fastest ship had taken him. But now there was no slow build; now there was simply an inferno, instantaneous and tinged with the strangest sense of what felt vaguely like foreboding (wrapped in a million other horrors) that he could not explain and it was that sense that made him fear; that sense that made him wonder if one and a half days was fast enough.

However at that moment his thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door and he shook his head in a futile attempt to clear his mind and expecting Jim with an update or another question he uttered, "Enter."

However once the door slid open it became instantly obvious that it was not his younger self as instead of seeing his own face, he was meet with the sight of Spock's as his lover's alternative self entered the room. And as the doors slid close behind him James couldn't help but curse under his breath (this was why he'd always tried not to assume; that whole "ass out of u and me" thing) because unlike Jim his t'hy'la's younger self would not be fooled by his "time lag" excuse and because explaining this without letting anything slip (he'd already decided not give too much of their future away; he had a healthy appreciation for Murphy's Law and he wasn't exactly sure how many truly beautiful things he'd destroy by stepping on a single butterfly) was going to be harder than importing humpback whales to the future (and that hadn't been an easy task to begin with; seriously, Klingon War Birds were hard enough to manoeuvre on their own, but with whales…shesh. Whose bright idea had that been again?).

"The Captain mentioned you seemed…unsettled," Spock began quietly after a moment of silence and with a slight air of hesitation and James cursed quietly at his own observational skills (his younger self couldn't have been a little more oblivious?) even as the flames seemed to rage higher at his t'hy'la's alternative self's presence.

"And I suppose you're here because you have a hypothesis on the nature of my unsettlement, Mr. Spock?" He asked after a moment of observation and at his question Spock visibly fidgeted for a moment before he stared over his shoulder fixatedly and replied, stiltedly, "I believe so; however I would require a meld to confirm my suspicions."

And although a part of him simply jumped at the opportunity; a chance to see his t'hy'la mind, unburdened by age; to know this Spock and to simply show him all that he and his own Captain could be, another part of him that burned screamed its displeasure at the thought. It was Spock, yes but not his Spock and in this particular case there could be no exceptions; only with his t'hy'la could he share this fire until they had finally exhausted and burned it out (there were some flames that not even water could extinguish; you simply had to let them burn themselves out) and he feared that in his desperation he would simply grab onto this Spock's presence and tie him to him, depriving his young counterpart of what could only be called the best part of his life.

But since he had no way to fool Spock into believing this was something else he amended his "protect the future plan" just slightly and he replied quietly, "Let's, for the sake of expediency say that you are right and skip the meld, because at this point that probably wouldn't be a good idea," and at his words Spock finally made eye contact and he stated, his voice tinged with something that sounded vaguely like disbelief (and reluctance, Vulcan prudish sentimentalities), "You are experiencing sympathetic pon farr."

And although it wasn't really a question James nodded once anyways before replying, "That would be one way to put it Mr. Spock, although from where I'm sitting there's nothing sympathetic about it."

And since it looked like Spock was going to ask further questions that could most definitely lead to the kind of discussion (and thoughts) one did not need to have when they were as enflamed as he was he continued quickly, "I am curious though; how ever did you come to that conclusion?" And although it was mostly an attempt to divert his focus, James was also genuinely curious because his and Spock's younger selves didn't appear to be knocking boots in this universe yet (and they didn't seem to be aware that he and his own Spock had been doing so in their universe, if Jim's "epic friendship" statement had meant anything) and so he was exceedingly interested in knowing how Spock was going to rationalize an emotional declaration (because he was pretty sure that was what it was).

Spock visually stalled for a moment in which James could practically see the little cogs turning in that impressive mind before he replied, "I inferred it from the speed of the ship and your destination. You expressed a desire for haste that could only be explained by the desire to try and avert a catastrophe of some kind," and the words seemed to be tinged with a sense of relief, as James imagined that he was pleased to have avoided the trap that had been set for him and had actually managed to offer an answer that wasn't derived from emotion.

"How logical of you, Mr. Spock," he said in response, a slight edge to the words and he accompanied them with an analysing look which made Spock squirm minutely and then look away. After a few moments of silence following the gesture had passed Spock said quietly, "If I may be so bold as to ask…?"

And James chuckled for a moment (because despite the fact that they were having _this_ conversation while he sat in his alternative self's quarters and burned for his t'hy'la - who happened to be an alternate form of himself- this Spock was still hesitant to ask a personal question) the sound hardly a more than a rasp before he replied, "Knock yourself out, Mr. Spock," and Spock simply nodded (instead of feigning ignorance of the slang he'd used; a sure sign of the seriousness of his question) before he fixed his eyes on his boots and asked quietly, "Why? Is it duty or friendship?"

In response James looked at his t'hy'la young counterpart and took in the slight air of tension that he seemed to wear like a well fitted coat and wondered if it had been like this for his own t'hy'la, so emotionally crippled by the nature of his race and so trapped by loving a man he had been sure he would never have. And although was still relatively resolved in his effort not to alter the lives of the people he'd found here, this was the one subject that he simply couldn't stay quiet on (the one thing that was truly worth any risk) and so he waited until those brown eyes met his own before he said in a solemnly quiet voice, "I cannot imagine the logic in asking a question that you already know the answer to. I am a man who has a very strong respect for duty and friendship but there is only one thing that would make me do this," and he paused for a moment to make sure he had assumed correctly (although he was sure he had; he could imagine no damage great enough for this to change) before he continued pointedly, "And I think you know exactly what that is, don't you?"

And at his words Spock seemed to withdraw into himself, as if he was expecting an attack before he replied quietly, "You two are t'hy'la. You…love him."

And James simply nodded in response before he answered, equally as quietly, "As much as you love your Jim, I imagine," and Spock made a small sound like James had struck him and he brought tortured eyes up to meet James's own before he answered, his voice no more than a whisper but heavy with resignation, "Yes."

"Well then Mr. Spock, if I may be so bold to paraphrase your question; why not?" He found himself asking almost with his conscious consent, because the feeling was there, in both of their eyes, so much earlier then it had been for him and Spock (or at least the realization was early; he was pretty sure he'd loved Spock since birth) and he was impossibly curious to know why they were wasting all this precious time.

"I do not believe that Jim is interested in men sexually," Spock said quietly after a moment, his gaze still firmly fixed on the ground and Jim only just managed to contain the chuckle that threaten to escape him (he didn't think that laughter would further his cause right now) at the statement and so he replied lightly, "Bisexuality is a function of biology Mr. Spock and while your captain and I might be different people due to our divergent experiences we are remarkably similar on the genetic level and so consequently I can most definitely confirm that your Captain occasionally enjoys the company of men."

And then he paused for a moment before he asked quietly," But that's not the real reason is it?" Because he was relatively sure that that wasn't the core of the problem (but not positive; by the time he and Spock had finally come together they had been so desperate for each other that they simply hadn't been able image the possibility of the other not wanting the relationship; it had just been a fact, as reliable as the passage of time).

And in response Spock announced to the floor, "No," his voice excruciatingly quiet and although James was pretty sure Spock was desperately looking for a way to make this conversation stop (getting any Vulcan, but especially this Vulcan to talk about emotions was a bit like winning the lottery, on the day you married the love of your life, on your birthday, which just happened to be Christmas; it was safe to say it didn't happen often) he pressed onwards, because he figured if he knew what it was he could fix it and do a little good in the universe he'd found himself in (beyond the fact that he was pretty much engineered to want all versions of himself and Spock together, some good karma could only help him at this point).

"Do you think he'll reject you?" he asked, because that had definitely been on the list of things that had held him back from confronting Spock about the true nature of his feelings and he imagined it was likely that it had been one of Spock's reasons for remaining silent for all those years (although he'd never actually asked; once he'd had him he simply hadn't cared).

"Yes," Spock answered quickly in response and the speed made James suspicious because although he was sure that it was at least part of the truth, his own Spock had only ever acquiesced that fast when he was hoping to throw him off the real heart of a problem. And so he stayed silent for a moment and pushed the flames down as far as he could so that he could look at this Spock clearly, taking in every inch of his posture and mapping every line on his face for whatever he was trying to hide; the part of the puzzle he was missing.

After a few moments of scrutiny the truth hit him suddenly and he quietly exclaimed, "You're afraid!" As he had finally recognized the look on this Spock's face from his rather extensive collections of Spock expressions (most of them just differed by a certain degree of eyebrow slantage; he was going to attribute the reason it had taken so long for him to clue in to that, although the fact that he could hardly think straight past the heat wasn't helping either) and Spock made another of those flinch movements in response that confirmed the validity of his statement better than any words ever could.

"Are you afraid that it will ruin your friendship?" He hazarded when nothing was volunteered from Spock, because that had probably been the biggest reason he'd never said anything when he'd realized that his feelings had matured into something infinitely more complex. The insurmountable fear that in being rejected he'd lose not only his heart but his best friend as well had gripped him in its clutches and had held him paralyzed for years (look, even Captain Kirk had the right to his fears and losing Spock all aspects of his life was definitely a justifiable fear) and it was the only thing he could truly imagine causing enough fear to stop this Spock.

"The probability of that outcome is 73.9%," Spock said after a moment, his gaze still firmly fixed on the ground as he continued, "And I have found myself unwilling to risk what we have on such a low percentage, especially as the best outcome I can foresee is that Jim is charitable enough to allow us to remain friends and ignore my feelings."

And James's heart shuddered in sympathy because he remembered viscerally how it had felt to stand in these very rooms and think that particular thought (although he hadn't been quite so precise in his despair) and so he responded quickly in an effort to dispel that feeling. "It won't. It will change your friendship, but it will definitely be a change for the better, and one day you'll wake up and realise you can't remember a time when it wasn't like that. It's not something you want to miss," he finished and for the second that he was lost in his memories the heat was nearly tender, like the soft embrace of the lover he so desperately missed, before it crashed down on him like a wave, this time with a vengeance and he winced minutely, the sound echoing in the silence.

In response Spock took a concerned step forward, his hand outstretched in what vaguely resembled the meld position and at the sight the flames simply raged, clawing their way through him like a crazed beast; screams of encouragement of dissatisfaction warring in his head to create an impossible din and so it was more sheer, animal instinct than any cultured notion had him pulling away from that too alluring touch and he hissed out in warning, "Don't."

Spock froze in response while James breathed through his mouth slowly (that fucking scent of Spock and sandalwood was just too much for him right now) in an attempt to gain back an ounce of his control, muscles still bunched, like an animal preparing to strike. When he could finally see past the sheer red that had been clouding his vision he said, quietly and measured, "It might benefit you to take a few steps back, Mr. Spock," and Spock quickly moved to obey, retreating nearly to the door, where he hovered, his body rocking only slightly from side to side in what James knew to be a tension relieving move.

"Are you afraid of this; Pon farr?" He asked after another moment of silence that had been punctuated only by the quiet sounds of Spock breath and the harsher sounds of his own, as now he desperately needed something to distract him. "Because it's usually better than this," he continued quietly, as he was perfectly aware that his outburst a moment ago had definitely not helped in his effort to ease any relationship fears that Spock was having and he felt a sudden and desperate need to make sure that it hadn't scared Spock enough into resolving to never pursue his own Jim (goddamn butterfly effect; the universe couldn't give him just one, little break?).

Spock twisted his hands minutely together in what James knew to be a gesture of sheer awkwardness before he said, "It did concern me, although my mother clearly survived the ordeal and so I imagine that Jim would be able to as well, if the opportunity ever presented itself. And these are clearly extenuating circumstances," he finished and by then he was practically wringing his hands, although James wasn't going to hold that against him (imaging your parents having sex could do that to anyone, not just someone who had been raised in the prudish society that was Vulcan; it was even dampening the flames a little bit, as a definite plus), especially in light of the fact that he hadn't seemed to have ruined everything before it had even begun (and this was exactly why a certain amount of karma was needed at all times).

"Are you worried that if he doesn't reject you, your relationship won't survive, like your relationship with the beautiful Uhura didn't?" He asked and then he smiled broadly because the look on Spock's face at his statement was simply too priceless for words. "We were in that cave for a while, and certain things did come up," he said in explanation and then he continued a friendly air of humour in his voice, "I must confess that once I got past the incredulousness that I felt at the thought; no offense intended by the way, I was a bit jealous," although in truth he had really only been a bit surprised at how proactive everyone in this universe seemed to be (younger captaincy, full-fledged relationship with Uhura; it was enough to make a man wonder what his own crew would have been able to accomplish if they'd been working at that pace, not that they hadn't accomplished a whole hell of a lot on their own).

"You and the lieutenant?" Spock asked quietly and he seemed almost sad at the thought, as if he believed that because Uhura was free she and Jim would start up a relationship and leave him alone and it was the sadness that had him answering truthfully instead of stringing him along, "No. In the beginning I had a bit of a thing for her and she in turn had a bit of a thing for Spock, but those feelings never turned into anything and none of us ever regretted it because in the end we all ended up happy." And he nearly smiled at the fondness he felt at the memories of that time and the hopeless infatuations that had come with it, before the flames surged painfully, almost as a reprimand of his thoughts and so he commanded himself to think of something else in an effort to calm the flames.

In the moments of silence that followed James racked his desperately chaotic mind for any other fears that Spock could have, and when he came up with nothing but dead ends and infernos he finally said, "I concede Mr. Spock, though I will not give up. Tell me what you're afraid of so I can assure you that whatever it is isn't enough for you to pass up on loving your Jim," and his slight exasperation (he really wished he'd thought to ask his own Spock his reasons, because that would have made this discussion a million times easier) and the flames made his voice rough and raspy, like sandpaper scraping slowly over wood.

Spock said nothing for another a few moments and James allowed him the time, as he could see that he wasn't trying to avoid the topic but rather attempting to gather his thoughts. When he finally seemed to be ready he raised his head very slowly up to James's and locked their gazes together and spoke, his voice so quiet that James had to crane forward just to hear it. "When I lost my mother...it was like an organ in my body had been forcibly removed, but although it still pains me it was something that I eventually found that I could live without, even though I would have preferred not to have lost it at all. But Jim; I fear that losing Jim would be like losing my heart and there is no life form that can live once it has lost that. I fear that I would not even try to; that I would welcome death as a respite." And now his voice was drowning in emotion, a mixture of pain and what sounded like shame that made James's heart simply _hurt_ even though it had already been in agony to begin with.

And before he could even find a way to wrap his mind around that little tidbit Spock continued, his voiced anguished and coloured further with something that sounded vaguely like anger, "I am Vulcan; I do not know how to deal with this emotion and I fear it will consume me," and after he finished he lowered his eyes to the floor again, as if he couldn't bear for James to see him so emotionally compromised.

But James was actually grateful for the gesture as it gave him time to think, because the truth was that he had no helpful anecdotes that would help him sooth this particular fear. He had never been a person who had put much worth in looking ahead as he had always been so consumed with the present and so although he had supposed that he had known when he was younger that the chances that he was going to die before Spock did were relatively high (the human lifespan had nothing on the Vulcan lifespan, as Bones had always pointed out; a statement that had usually been followed by a heartfelt sentiment on exactly where the pointy-eared bastards could stick their "Vulcan superiority") it had never really plagued him because it had simply been too far in the future for him to worry about. But it would have plagued Spock, he realized suddenly and he called himself all kinds of a fool for not realising it sooner, because his precious t'hy'la had been exactly the kind of man to obsessively plan ahead and so this would have definitely been something that he would not have missed.

But still, while the fear of his Jim's death explained what Spock was afraid of, it did not account for the self directed anger (there was only the two of them in the room and it just wasn't...logical for Spock to be angry at him) that had been in his voice, although James was relatively sure he had a good idea what had prompted that. He could easily remember a Spock, older than this one but so much younger than the man that he desperately wanted sitting at a table, his hands clenched and his face drawn as he had spoken, _Jim... when I feel friendship for you, I'm ashamed,_ and so it had not been then and was not now a great mystery as to why a creature as controlled as Spock would hate and fear the sheer uncontrollable emotion that came with being in love. And because James knew his t'hy'la as well as he did he knew that Spock would see the sheer force of his emotions as a betrayal of all that he had been taught to be and consequently he would see himself as an abomination; to strong and uncontrolled to love his Jim without hurting him or without being hurt himself.

But on this he was not without experience, as he knew only too well how it felt to look at the body of the one you loved, so still and cold and realize that you were too late and so he was no stranger to the insanity that came with that thought because hadn't he moved heaven and earth for nothing more than another moment with Spock (in fact wasn't it what he was doing right now). And so he took a long, slow considering look at this young Spock and as the flames within him raged the answer became as clear as crystal that gleamed in the sunlight and so, decision made he quietly spoke into the silence the words that he knew that this Spock needed to hear so that he would know that he was not alone (even if they pretty much shot his "not going to tell them about the future" plan straight to hell). "I'm not Vulcan Mr. Spock, and I didn't have the first clue on how to deal with that particular emotion. Not even when I was finally forced to," and as he finished he tried to ignore the impossible sting that the thought brought him, with only moderate success.

At his words Spock head shot of sharply and his eyes met James's for a moment and James was sure he could see the gears in Spock's mind turn as he tried desperately with his vaulted intellect to make what James had just said make sense. Finally Spock seemed to realise that he could come up with no logical answer and so he ceased his attempts and he asked, confusion that James knew he was unaccustomed to feeling clear in his voice. "I do not understand. My counterpart is clearly not dead, but I can think of no other way to interpret your statement."

And although he had to clear his throat twice before he could force the words past the giant boulder that had somehow taken residence in the vicinity of his throat he finally said faintly, "He was once." And his voice was hardly more than a whisper because there was still some part of him that feared that to say it aloud would somehow make it real again; return him to the agony and emptiness that a world without Spock had been and with the memory of the prison that had been the Nexus so fresh in his mind he couldn't bear to contemplate that right now.

"How did you...What did you do?" Spock asked disjointedly and James felt his heart lift with something that felt like relief mixed with a great deal of fondness at the fact that this Spock was so sure that it had been him to bring his own Spock back (that kind of faith had to be a good sign). But the feeling was short lived as he remembered that terrible, unspeakably painful time and exactly what he had done to bring Spock back; how he had given everything (anything) without hesitation for Spock to return to him and even as he remembered it he knew he would do it again in a heartbeat.

But he since he simply couldn't put that feeling into words (and since melding was definitely out) he instead asked, casually into the silence, "Do you like this ship, Mr. Spock?" And Spock seemed a bit derailed at his rapid change of topic, as it was with obvious caution that he answered, "I am satisfied with my position on the Enterprise," which James quickly translated into "yes" from Spock-speak and so he continued, his voice rich with the emotion that came with his memories.

"I love this ship; I always did. It was like a pulse in my veins, a hum in the back of my mind. She was my lady and I gave her all the respect that she deserved and more. You wanted to know what I did to get my Spock back," he stated quietly, not breaking eye contact with the clearly puzzled eyes of his t'hy'la's younger self who replied, "Yes," the bafflement caused by his confusion on how these two topics correlated even more evident in his tone.

"I destroyed her," he said and at his words Spock sharply inhaled, the sound similar to what it would have been like if James (or someone much stronger than him; Vulcan superiority and all that) had stood and punched him in the stomach, the look on his face such a maelstrom of emotion that not even Jim's extensive knowledge could label it.

"I cast her to the wind and let her burn without a second thought. And not even for an instant did I regret it, because in the end I had him back, so it was all worth it," and as he finished he held Spock's gaze with his own so that he could see the truth in what he'd said; so that he'd understand that in regards to love there was nothing that was considered too much.

After a moment where Spock clearly tried to process the bombshell that James had just dropped on his head he continued, in an effort to make sure he'd truly gotten his point across. "It's normal to be a little bit crazy when you're in love. It makes it possible to move mountains; it makes nothing out of reach or out of bounds. And take it from me, because I know a bit about this, if you are going to lose him it will be better to have had him first, because then when you bring him back there will be no sweeter sensation than knowing what you feel is strong enough to withstand anything."

And paused for a second to smile, nothing more than the tiniest curve of his lips as he remembered standing on red rocks and feeling his heart swell at nothing more than the remembrance of his name from a mouth that had once been so terrible silent before he continued, "And you have something that we didn't have and it's something that makes me terribly envious of you and my young counterpart."

"We are a deviation from what we should have been; your universe. What could you envy in that?" Spock responded, and there was the slightest bite to his voice; the pain of a mother lost too early and an empty gaping hole of cold space where a planet had once existed, warm and full of lives that should not have ended when they did.

And although he understood the anger (and he really did) he also knew the benefits that Spock had not yet seen and so he replied, "Time, Mr. Spock. You're not really more damaged than we are, because we're no strangers to pain. We lost more loved ones than even you can imagine; but it took us longer to get there and so your eyes have been opened enough so you can see what we couldn't at your age. Pain may be aversive, but it's also adaptive. It keeps us from putting our hands on open flames and it teaches us to love by reminding us that one day it'll be gone."

And he paused for a moment to center himself from the terrible stab of emotion that brought before he continued, "I've travelled through time and space; returned from what could only be called death for the sole reason of wanting a little more time. All you have to do is walk next door and talk to him. Surely that must be easier," he finished and then he took a moment to analyse if what he'd said had done any good towards changing Spock's attitude towards a relationship with his Jim.

After a few moments of silence where James mapped the contours of Spock's face for clues he raised his eyes again and when they met his own he almost couldn't hold in the whoop of sheer relief that wanted to escape his throat at the near acceptance that he saw in those precious too human eyes. "How are you so sure that this is the correct path for us?" Spock asked, the faintest hint of a something that sounded like a strange combination of desperation and hope in his voice and James nearly smiled because compared to all of Spock's other reasons why he couldn't start a relationship this was nothing more than a token protest from a man who didn't like to admit defeat (they'd always had that in common; it had made them a great command team and it had made the sex awesome). And really, out of all of the questions that Spock had asked this one was by far the easiest and so this time he did smile as he replied, "I might not be in the winter of my life just yet Mr. Spock, but I'm definitely in the fall. But I've got someone I love and someone who loves me and so I can't feel the cold. As a Vulcan, you must be able to see the logic in keeping warm."

And as he finished he watched Spock process what he'd said and as he saw more of that resistance fall away Spock uttered, barely even a whisper, "And if I am not as strong as you were when you lost him?" and in his words James could hear how close he was to accepting and so with the fire in his veins raging he moved in for the kill, his expression reminiscent of an animal who had scented blood. "There's an old human saying, Mr. Spock. It's a cliché but it's also extremely apropos considering your situation. There's no point in living if you can't feel alive. And right now your fear is preventing you from living."

"I am living," Spock responded, puzzlement obvious in his voice that James imagined was a product of his literal mind which likely stated that one needed nothing more than the pulse of blood through ones veins and breath in ones lung to be alive.

But James knew better; knew that those things were not even close to constitute living. It was knowledge beaten into him by a lifetime of love and loss and laughter and so he replied quietly, "No, you are not. You're simply existing and trust me, because I know a great deal about this, existing is not nearly enough."

And almost the second after had finished speaking his entire body froze (despite the impossible fire that was raging in his veins) until he was colder than the ice on the coldest planets and he simply stopped; his heart and breath grinding to halt as his mind raged and screamed as that thing; that unreachable, terrifying thing finally drifted into reach as he recalled their conversation. This young Spock had said that he hadn't wanted to live without his Jim and James had sympathized with his fear (because he knew that to live without the one you loved was a cruel and unusual torture) but now any sympathy he had felt was drowned out by the sheer encompassing fear that seemed to be crushing every organ in his body.

It was like this terrible thought had been locked behind one of the doors in his mind and his statement to Spock that he wasn't living had been the key to unlocking it and now he had finally opened the door he had stumbled upon the question; what if his Spock felt the same way? What if his precious, logical t'hy'la had been saved from the ravages of pon farr while he had been in the Nexus but had gone into it as soon as James had broken free and had landed on that god damn planet and because Spock hadn't known that James was here; that he was alive, he had decided to simply let the flames consume him and finally end the aloneness that he imagined his death had brought (and in the face of that terrible knowledge, the irony of his carefree statement seemed almost malicious).

And then in the next instant the answer was dragged, kicking and screaming from the deepest part of his soul, leaving gaping and oozing wounds in its trail as he remember one particular meld with his lover as they'd laid on their bed on Vulcan while he'd been recovering from a virus that had nearly killed him. And in the terror born from his dawning realization he saw, as clear as if it was happening now, how his t'hy'la had lifted his hands to his forehead and then,

_The heat of the planet was completely overwhelmed by the coldness inside as he lifted his eyes to T'Pau's, no sound in his mind; in the world beyond the terrible echo of McCoy's voice proclaiming, "he's dead, he's dead, he's dead." And then T'Pau voice, so quiet and so logical, "Live long and prosper, Spock," and there was nothing, nothing to say but the truth, not because Vulcan's did not lie but because he did not believe he could force any words but these out of his mouth. "I shall do neither. I have killed my captain... and my friend." And wasn't friend such an insignificant word, barely even scratching the surface, but did it really matter now what he labelled Jim because Jim was dead, dead by Spock hands around his throat and somehow, though logic would decree it impossible the world seemed dimmer already. And he was reminded of Milton, whom Jim had loved to read (but Jim was dead now so there would be no more reading) and of Paradise Lost because now; now he finally understood the sentiment, "So dear I love him that with him all deaths I could endure, without him live no life" because without Jim there was no life, and he could only hope that his punishment would be death so that he would not have to endure this gaping numbness anymore..._

And after the meld had faded and he had been too choked with emotion to even speak his t'hy'la had whispered into his hair, softer than anything before, "without you live no life," and suddenly James snapped back to the present and he whipped his head up to meet the terribly familiar and yet foreign gaze of this universe's Spock, who in his terror he had forgotten was even still in the room and whispered through bloodless lips, "We need to go faster." And perhaps he heard the terror in his voice, or saw it in his face (because he imagined it was a clear as day; how could it not be?) Spock's younger self simply nodded once and then turned swiftly towards the door and exited, heading in the direction of the bridge and striding quickly out of sight.

And after he had watched Spock leave James was unable to do anything more than simply sit and pray as the flames of pon farr warred with the glacial ice of his fear, until his thoughts became one endless mantra.

_We need to go faster, we need to go faster, we need to go faster, we need to go faster._

Because, Enterprise or not, if they didn't then Spock was going to die.

A/N: Wouldn't that just suck, huh? If they got so close but just not close enough (fate is a damn cruel bitch after all, and our boys have had it a little too easy so far). After the three weeks I've had I felt the need to expel some of my frustration and so, angst! But don't despair as I'm relatively (but not completely; live in fear!) sure I can get the angst bunny out of my plot garden (apologies for the really horrible metaphor) before long.

That said; terribly sorry that took so long to write, and thanks to everyone who stuck around. I'm not going to give any hints about the next part beyond the fact that it should be a bit longer (and there should finally be some smut) and in New-Jim's POV (which anyone who can count likely already figured out) which means it's not the reunion, but we're almost there. As always, reviews and constructive criticism are welcome.

Also, as a side note as one of my friends brought this up, in this story the reason that Spock Prime didn't go into pon farr when Kirk died in Generations is because Kirk was technically still "alive-but-not-completely-alive" in the Nexus and he's going into it now because Kirk is out of the Nexus and alive (as in not crushed by, of all things, a _bridge_) in this universe.


	7. Of Things Both Profound and Inevitable

Part Six – Of Things Both Profound and Inevitable (There's No Fighting This New-Old Feeling)

Disclaimer: Star Trek and the boys belong to Gene Roddenberry, who I am not. I am only borrowing them with the greatest respect, and promise to return them in mostly pristine condition.

* * *

"_Sometimes a feeling is all we humans have to go on."_  
-- **Kirk** (A Taste of Armageddon)

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Jim knew from the first second that the bridge door swished open and Spock entered that whatever his first officer and his alternative self had been talking about had not gone well (and really, in hindsight he probably should have expected that). It was all in the way the way that Spock was clenching his face, although Jim doubted that anyone else would have noticed it. On the surface Spock's face was as composed as it always was, but if one looked closer they'd notice the tiny crinkles around his eyes and a tightness around his mouth that wasn't part of the traditional Spock facade.

On anyone else the expression wouldn't have meant anything, but on Spock it was the equivalent of a giant glowing neon holo-sign above his head that flashed "tension," and so consequently Jim felt his good mood that had been prompted from his talk with Admiral Pike regarding their course change (Pike was apparently exceedingly bored and had just relished at the chance to skilfully toy with some of the other Admirals; in many ways Pike and he were actually very similar which, come to think about it was probably why he liked him so much) pretty much evaporate and he wasn't the least bit surprised when Spock made a beeline for his chair immediately after entering.

He was however exceedingly surprised that once Spock had reached his chair he didn't simply, in his extremely no nonsense (and yet somehow exceedingly charming) manner tell him what was going on, but rather that he stood and seemed to almost fidget (which pretty much scared the crap out of him, because Spock did _not_ fidget). However he was pulled out of his 'my first officer has been replaced by some kind of droid/doppelganger/alternative self that _fidgets_' theories (and really, considering his life that was hardly even paranoid at all) by Spock, who leaned into close to his ear and whispered in a tone that was saturated with hesitation,

"Captain, may I speak with you in private?"

And although he had the feeling that this wasn't a conversation they wanted to have in front of the crew, there wasn't any way that he could leave in the middle of his shift and the only semi private place on the bridge was a darkened corner (and wouldn't that just look suspicious?) and so he answered, voice equally quiet,

"I think you'd better just tell me right here what's going on Mr. Spock."

And he felt his incredulousness increase as Spock actually wrung his hands together before he answered, voice barely a more than a breath of air (which despite that it was aimed directly in his ear Jim didn't even take a second to enjoy it; a clear sign of how anxious he was),

"It would be beneficial if we reached New Vulcan as quickly as possible. Quicker than our present speed dictates" and he accompanied the last part of his statement with the tiniest nod of his head, as if he was speaking to a two year old child and he needed to reinforce the fact that he was elaborating on the point.

But now there were definitely warning bells clanging in Jim's head because this was so uncharacteristic of Spock that he was starting to wonder if whatever his older self had shown Spock had accidentally caused him to short circuit and so he asked, voice still low in an effort to keep their conversation out of the ears of the crew that were most definitely trying to listen in,

"You want us to go faster? Correct me if I'm wrong but you were the one who said we would be better going off slower than we were now, so you'd better tell me right now exactly what he...me...James said that's made you change your mind do radically."

And then Spock wrung his hands again in response and Jim couldn't help but hiss out of the corner of his mouth, "And stop fidgeting. It's freaking me out!"

Because he was starting to get that weird, cold feeling that had crawled up his spine when James had rescued him and the fact that Spock was so obviously rattled was making it a hundred times worse and since he really needed to focus Spock was definitely going to have to stop fidgeting (or he was going to lose what was left of his mind).

And thankfully Spock did actually stop fidgeting (and now the fact that Spock was acquiescing so fast was freaking him out; he really couldn't win today) but he still looked exceedingly uncomfortable as he said extremely quietly,

"I cannot give to the specifics of the situation. Only that we must increase our current speed if we wish to avoid an...unfortunate outcome."

At that Jim decided that he was going to take the fact that Spock had nearly choked over the last words to mean that they were a giant understatement (there was a great deal of evidence to support that; "Captain we have a situation" in Spock always seemed to translate into "Something/one/race is trying to kill us right the fuck now and they're really fucking close to succeeding" in everybody else).

And so Jim just shook his head in disbelief because yeah, that was definitely not going to fly right now; this was, after all kind of his life that Spock was talking about (sort of, in a much older and alternative universe sort of way) and so he asked, slightly dangerously (and maybe with the slightest edge of hysteria),

"Why can't you tell me? And while we're on the subject, maybe you could give me your definition of an 'unfortunate outcome' because I have a feeling that whatever's gotten you so shaken is a bit more than 'unfortunate'".

"I cannot tell you the details. It is something that is not spoken of. And we do not have time to discuss this," Spock responded quietly and Jim felt the slightest tinge of anger poke through his burgeoning panic at Spock's illogical resistance to tell him what was going on and so he hissed quietly,

"Well we're damn well going to make some time to speak of it now! Starting with what 'it' is!"

And he lifted his head slightly so he could look (glare) into Spock's eyes to try and see what Spock wasn't saying (Vulcan eyes might not have been the windows to the soul but Spock's baby browns were just as human as his mother's and very expressive; they were also exceeding gorgeous but this really wasn't the time for that).

At Jim's look (glare) Spock nearly wrung his hands again before he seemed to catch himself (he had, after all been ordered to stop fidgeting) and instead he took a long, slow breath before he whispered hesitantly,

"It...is a matter of life and death and I cannot say any more about it."

And at that Jim felt himself freeze because, life and death? Someone was dying? And although that was pretty fuckin' bad, what was almost worst was the fact that Spock had apparently decided that Jim didn't deserve the details and at that thought he felt himself get angrier and so this time his voice was most definitely dangerous as he hissed,

"No way. You don't just get to say that and then nothing. A matter of whose life or death? James's death?"

And then some of his anger dropped away as he looked at the conflicted face of his first officer and so he whispered gently (and no, he wasn't pleading because he wasn't a six year old asking for candy),

"Please Spock, tell me what's going on."

Spock hesitated for another second; clearly warring with something internally, before he raised his eyes to Jim's and said,

"Yes, but not it is not only his life that is currently at risk. It is also the life of my counterpart that now hangs in the balance."

And the second he'd finished Spock broke eye contact and seemed to become fascinated with his boots while Jim's mind tried to process the bombshell that Spock had just dropped on him and largely failed, because seriously, both their elder's selves' lives were at risk? What the fuck was that about?

When he'd finished racking his brain for answers and had come up with nothing (well, he'd come up with several theories, but they were the type that if he'd said any of them aloud he would have gotten a first class ticket to a very white room) he decided to just go ahead with the simplest plan (that admittedly was really failing him in this conversation so far) and so he asked Spock,

"How the fuck do you know that? Have you talked to your elder self? Is something happening to both of them, like a side effect of them both being in this universe?"

Spock removed his gaze from his boots to stare at Jim for a minute, as if he was looking for something. After a moment of inspection he finally said quietly,

"I have not talked to him, but your inference is correct in a sense."

And because that made absolutely no sense at all (what, were the two Spock's sharing a mind now? And that thought was just way too creepy) Jim opened his mouth to (quietly) reiterate his previous 'what the fuck?' sentiment when Spock pre-empted him as he asked,

"Jim, do you trust me?"

And at that Jim had to pause for a moment as a wave of what he hoped was anger (but felt suspiciously like hurt) washed over him because apparently _Spock _thought _he_ didn't trust him. It was Spock who was being secretive and acting as if he didn't trust Jim, not the other way around and so the anger surged up again in him and he hissed,

"What kind of a question is that, Mr. Spock? Of course I trust you," and as he did he hoped that his voice didn't sound as pain ridden as it did in his head, because now especially wasn't the right time for that (not that there was a "right time" in his opinion but if there was it definitely wasn't now).

It apparently didn't, thank god as Spock nodded in response and his eyes seemed to soften a little before he whispered sincerely and without hesitation this time,

"Then trust me on this matter now and I will promise to try and answer your questions as best as I can at a later time."

And although a part of Jim that was seriously hurting at Spock's reluctance to tell him simply wanted to sit there and fight, the sincerity of Spock's response had taken a lot of the force out of his anger. Also, although he might not have liked to lose, he was pragmatic enough to realise that sitting here fighting was only going waste a lot of time that could be better used in the pursuit of saving two lives and so he resisted the urge to argue (or roll on the ground and throw a temper tantrum like an upset child; that sounded pretty tempting as well).

Instead he simply turned his eyes to Spock's and said,

"Fine. But you're telling me _everything, _and I mean everything that's going on the second that it's over, got it?" And he made sure that there was no his voice conveyed exactly how serious (and he was very, very serious) he was about that.

Spock nodded his head in response and whispered solemnly,

"I give you my word," and his manner made Jim feel that they'd just completed some kind sacred ritual (which for some reason put a strange warmth in the pit of his stomach; and not _that_ kind of warmth, although they were similar).

"Great," he drawled, his voice heavy with sarcasm, because flying blind into anywhere (even if it was only New Vulcan) wasn't exactly his idea of fun. But Spock had given his word that he'd tell him later and since Jim was definitely going to hold him to that (if he balked he'd restrict Spock from any of the science labs and see how fast he caved) he had his end of the bargain to hold up now and so he quickly reverted back into 'Captain mode' as he told Spock,

"You try to get your elder self on the link while I convince Scotty to abuse his precious engines by making them go faster than they probably should."

And Spock nodded once and as he turned to walk back to his station Jim would have chuckled at how the rest of the crew suddenly got very involved in their work if the situation hadn't been so severe, but as it was he simply turned his attention towards Uhura, who was apparently very involved in translating standard to standard (yeah, because that was a good cover) and said, with only a hint of sarcasm in his voice,

"If you're not too busy with that very important work that you're doing Lieutenant, maybe you could find a moment to patch us through to engineering and put it on the main screen?"

Uhura looked chastised for all of a minute (which really, was probably his record so far with her) before she threw a long suffering and slightly dirty look in his direction (but a lot less mean than the glares she had directed at him after she and Spock had broken up; he was still a little confused at why she had been glaring at _him,_ but he'd long ago excepted that the female mind was something he was never going to get) before she replied in a tone so sweet that butter wouldn't have melted,

"Of course Captain. And is there anything else I can do for you?"

And although he knew she was expecting some kind of playful proposition (that was their thing; he flirted knowing he'd be rebuffed and she rebuffed him knowing that he'd just try again and somehow the ritual had become a strange sort of friendship) at this particular moment with the fate of two very important people's lives resting on his shoulder's he simply didn't have any energy to be charming and so he simply replied,

"No, that will be all Lieutenant."

And then he decided to ignore the gaped mouths and huge eyes on all of the bridge crews faces at his innuendo free response (it was a very predictable ritual, after all, and if they hadn't been aware that this was serious before they definitely were now).

Uhura, to her credit though, managed to wipe the slack jawed look off her face relatively quickly and with the briefest look of concern in Jim's direction she simply kept silent and turned back towards her station and did as she was told. A second later the cheerful face (he knew that Scotty wouldn't sip from the still that he wasn't supposed to know about on duty but sometimes he wondered about that man's happiness) of his chief engineer appeared on the screen and Scotty smiled before he asked, his typical Scottish brogue thick in his voice,

"Now this is a bonnie surprise. What can my lady do for ye today Captain?"

And since Jim knew the Scotsman so well he knew that what they needed right now wasn't going to make Scotty happy, however he didn't have the time to sooth the his feelings (he hardly had time to breathe, much less anything else) and so he simply came right out with it and said bluntly,

"There's been a change in our situation, Scotty and consequently we need to get to New Vulcan as fast as we can. I need you to keep our girl running while we go to New Vulcan at maximum warp," he finished and then he ignored the whispers that came from the crew at his statement in favour of looking at Scotty, whose expression very graphically showed his disapproval at that particular idea.

"Are ye daft Captain?"

Scotty spluttered, voice a combination of righteous outrage and disbelief that would have been comical any time but now and before Jim had time interject Scotty barrelled right on, barely even pausing for breath.

"We cannae maintain that speed for that duration Captain. She'll give out on us!"

And since it looked like Scotty was going to start up again (and likely never stop; he took his engines very seriously) Jim cut him off.

"We don't have a choice Scotty. It'll take us eleven hours to get there on maximum and even that might not be enough time to prevent something very tragic from occurring. You're a miracle worker Scotty; you'll figure something out. Now, can I count on you Mr. Scott?"

And as he finished he knew that his voice was nearly raw with the emotion and fear that was swirling in him and he imaged that it was that emotion more than anything else that convinced the Scott of exactly how serious this all was because after only a couple of mumbled curse words (likely directed at a certain part of his anatomy) him simply nodded and said,

"Of course ye can Captain."

And then he looked off screen while his fingers flew over his padd and after a minute or so his head bobbed up and he made a triumphant sound and he replied,

"I think I've got something that jus' might work! If I can direct most of the auxiliary power towards the cooling mechanism on the dilithium crystals we might be able to keep things chilly enough so we don't blow up before we get there!"

"That would be the preferred outcome Scotty," Jim said in response, letting some of his relief seep into his voice (and he actually was a bit relieved because now at least keeping his and Spock's older selves alive was a possibility), but as they were still on a deadline (and that was just a really terrible unintended pun) he asked,

"How long?"

Scotty looked down and fiddled with his padd for a second before he replied,

"About an hour, soup to nuts. But ye can go to max now while we work on it, Capt so ye don't have to wait."

And since that sounded like the best plan they were going to come up with Jim simply nodded his head and ordered,

"Do it."

And Scotty simply nodded and stated, "Aye Captain," and at that Jim nodded once in Uhura direction and she cut the feed, leaving the bridge in complete silence.

At that Jim took to a moment to survey the puzzled and worried expressions that his bridge crew was trying (and failing completely to hide) before he came to a decision. There was no way he was telling them the whole situation (and it wasn't just because _he_ wasn't even aware of the whole situation) but this was _his crew_; the only people other than his family that he'd gladly die for and they definitely didn't deserve to be kept in the dark and so he waited until everyone's eyes were on him (which took about a millisecond; they were clearly a little bit worried about how totally out of character he'd been acting) before he stated to the room,

"We've run into a little situation with our new passenger and although I'm unable to give you the specifics the bottom line is that if we don't get to New Vulcan fast we might be down one passenger by the time we do get there."

And then he waited for a moment to left the gravity of what he'd said set in (he figured it had when the worry on the crews face had become something that vaguely resembled horror; he could relate) before he continued quietly,

"So I need everyone to perform like the rock stars that I know you all are, because if everyone does that then we've got a real chance in avoiding that. Alright?"

He asked and then he was hit with a sudden wave of pride when everyone nodded furiously and sat up straighter at their stations, the worry and horror on their faces morphing into fierce expressions of determination and will.

And so, despite the absolute terror he felt at the situation they were in it was with the tiniest smile that he turned to Sulu and ordered clearly,

"Punch it."

Sulu nodded and then turned back towards the console and with a few pushes of a button and slide of that pretty silver lever (and the parking brake definitely wasn't on this time) the ship jumped into maximum warp with only the tiniest jerk, which thankfully smoothed out after a moment until the increased speed of the ship could only be noticed by the blur of the stars as they passed them.

After he was sure that everything was settled with the speed he got up out of his chair and walked as casually as he could over to Spock's station, where he leaned down so he could whisper quietly into Spock's ear,

"Any luck reaching our friend on New Vulcan?"

In response Spock looked up slowly and at the look on his face Jim's tiny hint of good cheer immediately evaporated because Spock definitely didn't look like he'd gotten good news (his eyebrows were in a definite "this is not good" position). A second later Spock responded, his voice low enough so that only Jim could hear it,

"I was unable to contact my elder self, however I was able to make contact with a temple priestess who informed me he will unreachable for at least another day as he has cloistered himself away to mediate and cannot be roused."

And at that Jim couldn't help but feel a bit confused, because meditation wasn't exactly known to kill Vulcan's (in fact, as far as he knew they all seemed to think it was a great idea as every Vulcan he'd ever met had seemed to spend an amazing amount of doing it) and so it definitely didn't seem bad enough to cause the Vulcan equivalent of the 'Everything is fuckin' going to hell and I don't like this hand basket' expression that was gracing Spock's face. He verbalised his confusion by quietly asking,

"Is that a bad thing? I thought you guys loved to mediate?"

And then he felt his trepidation increase as Spock's mouth turned further down, not in anger but in worry and he said quietly,

"Normally meditation is a natural part of Vulcan life as it is beneficial to the maintenance of a balanced katra. However the illness that my elder self is currently suffering from is not one that can be healed with meditation. Therefore it is most likely that his plan is to isolate himself so that he can die without the presence of others."

At that Jim decided that Spock's expression was most certainly justified and so Jim simply nodded once, almost without his conscious control and he said,

"Well then it sounds like there's isn't anything more that we can do then try again when we're half way there. Other than that, let's just hope that we're going fast enough."

Spock nodded once in response, clearly not thrilled with the plan (neither was Jim, for that matter) but pragmatic enough to realize that it was all that they could do. Before he turned to go back to his chair he remembered James in his cabin and although this definitely wasn't the time to bagger for details on his future he did wonder if there was anything he could do to make him more comfortable and so he leaned back down and asked,

"Do you think I should go and check in on James and see if there's anything he needs?"

Spock's response was instantaneous and shocking in its emotional strength as something that looked a great deal like panic flashed across his face and he replied quickly,

"No. I believe that visiting your elder self would only cause further detriment to his health. It is my opinion that he should not be disturbed until we have reached New Vulcan."

At the noticeable urgency in Spock's voice (Spock was urgent all the time, but he very rarely ever let his emotions seep into his voice; this situation must have been really freaking him out) Jim put a hand on Spock shoulder and squeezed gently in reassurance (not the full body, "I want to crawl into your skin and stay there" hug that he wanted to give, but the next best thing when he was trying to hide certain feelings) and said, in the most calming tone he could summon up in this situation,

"Alright, I'll stay on the bridge if you think its best. But I want you to monitor his vitals from here, so that we'll at least know if anything goes sour."

And because he couldn't bear to tell Spock that 'everything was going to be alright' when there was still a very real chance that it wasn't going to be he simply squeezed his shoulder once more before he straightened back up and with a nod from Spock, returned to his chair. Once he got there he sat back down and found himself staring at the stars, now hardly more than tiny streaks of light as they flew past, thinking about everything and nothing. He'd thought that the eleven hours would crawl by, each agonizing second a terrible reminder of all that they had to lose if they failed but instead he became thoroughly lost in thought and the time seemed fly by, just like the twinkling stars did.

It seemed like he had been only sitting for a moment when Spock spoke up to inform him that James was still fine and that there was still no contact with "their acquaintance on New Vulcan," signalling that their journey was half over and the rest of the time seemed to pass just as fast, as it felt like he'd done nothing more than blink before he was roused out of his thoughts (chaotic but somehow comforting as he'd –and although he hadn't been asleep there was no other word for it- dreamt of the red sands of a planet he'd never seen and the mummers of a language he'd didn't speak from a mouth that was very familiar; he was going to have one hell of a talk with Spock when this was all over) by Uhura, who proclaimed,

"We are within range of New Vulcan, Captain."

At her voice he shook himself once to get rid of the strange fog that had seemed to have fallen over him and once he was himself again he nodded his head in acknowledgement and said to the room,

"Alright everyone, well done. I guess since we're all still here Scotty's plan worked," and at the tiny smiles he got from the crew (and the eye roll he got from Uhura) he couldn't help but smile a bit himself before he switched back to 'command mode' and he turned to Sulu and said,

"Lieutenant, take us out of warp so that we can cruise into transporter range. Commander," he began, swivelling his chair towards Spock after Sulu began to input the sequence that would take them out of warp.

"Contact that priestess on New Vulcan and ask her for the coordinates of the best place that we can beam our new friend down to," he finished and then he grabbed onto the arm rests of his chair to steady himself as the ship jerked once as they dropped out of warp.

A moment later Spock turned towards him and announced,

"I have the coordinates for transport. T'Para-the priestess of the temple- has indicated that we will be able to transport your elder self down onto the steps of the temple where he will be escorted inside so he can...receive the care that he requires."

And at that appropriately vague response (they were definitely going to have one hell of a talk once this was over) Jim nodded once and took a second to form a plan of action. Once he had one he turned to Uhura and said,

"I'm going to go get James and bring him to the transporter room. I want you to page Scotty and Bones and have them waiting there for us when we get there. I'm not about to have come this far just to have it to all go wrong because the transporter decides to turn him inside out or send him to another planet or something equally as bizarre."

And everybody on the bridge nodded once in response (that kind of stuff just seemed to happen all the time; on the Enterprise at least) before he stood and turned back towards Spock and asked,

"Do you want to come with me to get James? I might need your help if he has trouble walking," because if James had only been getting worse as they travelled then it would be great to have Spock's Vulcan strength to help them out.

Spock however clearly didn't think that it was a good idea as his face quickly became shuttered (more shuttered than usual, anyways) and he replied quickly,

"I do not believe that would be advisable. I will meet the two of you in the transporter room."

And although a large part of him wanted to stand there and ask exactly why it wasn't 'advisable' they weren't quite in the clear yet and so him simply shelved the question away for later and nodded once before left the bridge and he headed towards his quarters.

At his swift pace it only took him a few minutes to get there and once he reached the door he simply entered in the key code instead of waiting for permission (they were, after all his quarters and even if James wasn't in the best of shape he was unlikely to see anything he hadn't before; it was his body as well and there was that mind fuck again).

Once the door opened he walked swiftly inside and then he simply stopped for a moment to stare in shock because James had definitely gotten worse; before he'd been a bit under the weather but now he looked like he'd been hit by the mother of all storms. Sweat was dripping down every inch of his skin that was somehow both as pale as death and terribly flushed and his eyes were cloudy but wild (and yeah, the talk he and Spock were going to have was going to be epic because he couldn't think of anything that would cause _this_), but he was clearly still alive and at that moment that was all that mattered.

With that in mind he slowly approached James and once he reached him he crouched down to his level and said quietly,

"We've reached New Vulcan. Your Spock is here in a temple doing some kind of Vulcan thing that my Spock won't tell me about. Can you walk to the transporter room so that you can see him?"

At the mention of his Spock's name those foreign hazel eyes flared once before clearing and James spoke, voice gravelly with exhaustion and some emotion that Jim wasn't sure he wanted to name,

"For him, anything."

At the emotion saturated in his voice Jim desperately wanted to stay and ask all those things that his own Spock wouldn't tell him and more; the real reason they were here and what Spock was to James but they didn't have time for this and he couldn't be selfish (and if he was being completely honest with himself, the implications that he was drawing from this were a bit terrifying) and so he simply grasped his elder self under his armpits an lifted him to his feet.

He was glad to find that he didn't have to support James completely as no matter how exhausted he looked at the moment he clearly hadn't given up yet (he'd expected nothing less from the man) and so they began to hobble/walk towards the transporter room, their pace not exactly swift but at least they were going in the right direction. It was a largely silent walk, punctuated only by the soft shuffle of their feet and the sound of James's harsh breathes but despite their hardships they finally made it to the transporter in one piece, where they found Spock, Scotty and Bones and some redshirted transporter tech whose name he couldn't remember (although he was pretty sure it was something non descript like Smith) waiting for them.

Bones, upon spotting them immediately rushed forward with his tricorder out and begun scanning, muttering something that sounded a great deal like "Goddamn it Jims" under his breath, but James reached up and batted the tricorder away with a movement that spoke of a great deal of practice (Jim was hoping that once he got to James's age he'd be as good at that as he was; hyposprays too).

"It'll go away soon enough when I get to down there, Bones. And speaking of which, although I'd very much like to have a long goodbye with everyone, I've got an extremely pressing need to get down there and so at the risk of sounding rude, would anyone mind if we got this show on the road?"

James asked, and Jim couldn't help but chuckle at the more than slightly disgruntled look on Bones's face (that man took his patient care very seriously) before he finally acquiesced with a muffled curse and grabbed the other side of James's body and together they managed to walk onto the pad like some kind of demented five legged race.

Once they were on the pad Bones let go and walked backwards (he also took his hatred of transporters very seriously and after serving on this ship for a while Jim was almost starting to agree with him) but Jim stayed on for a moment longer because he wasn't exactly sure if James could stand on his own. James, who had clearly figured out his intent (which would have been an impressive feat if they hadn't been, you know, the same person) chuckled once, the sound raspy before he said,

"This is something I've got to do on my own, kid. Besides, you've got your own ordeal to go through," and his last words were pitched low, so that only Jim could hear them.

"I guess I do," he said quietly, thinking of his upcoming conversation with Spock (and how his elder self knew that he'd never be sure and imagined if he tried to figure it out he'd probably go mad) and so he tentatively let James go and once he was sure he wasn't going to fall flat on his face he finally stepped back off the pad. James gave him a terribly familiar cocky smile in response and then he turned and gestured Spock closer with a wave of his hand.

Spock visibly hesitated for a moment (maybe they'd gotten into a fight; another thing to ask) before he slowly approached James and once he was only a few inches away from him James leaned over and whispered something in his ear that Jim couldn't hear before he pulled back rapidly. Spock retreated equally as quickly back to where he had been standing with a look of slight confusion on his face and at that look Jim resisted his almost overpowering urge to bang his head against the nearest wall and instead simply added another point to his rapidly growing list of 'things that I have to talk to Spock about in our conversation because the pointy eared bastard is being secretive'.

When it seemed like no more secret messages were forth coming Jim turned to Scotty and nodded once and in turn Scotty began to punch in the coordinates. After a second Scotty nodded back and they all turned back to the pad to watch as the golden light of the transporter began to glow around James. Just before he disappeared, James took a second to look at both him and Spock for a moment before he smiled and said cryptically,

"If I could do it all over again, the only thing I'd do differently was waste less time. You would do well to keep that in mind," and then he waved cheerily for a second after he finished speaking before the light of the transporter surged and he was gone.

After a moments that were full of the strangest mix of both emptiness and happiness (at least for Jim; maybe this was so kind of delayed panic attack) Bones said,

"Well that was weird," into the impossible silence that been created by James departure and at his exclamation Jim couldn't help but chuckle because the fact that the world could turn inside out and Bones would still be Bones was incredibly comforting.

"Aptly put Bones," he replied and then he continued, addressing the whole crowd.

"Alright everybody shows over, back to work. Scotty, I'm giving you the conn for the remainder of the shift as Mr. Spock and I are going to be busy discussing some very important business. I imagine it goes without saying that you'll take care of our girl in our absence. Bones, I'd like you to check in with that priestess in an hour to make sure everything going alright down there, but I don't want to be disturbed unless its bad news got it?"

And he paused for a moment to wait for Scotty's cheerful nod of agreement and Bones's (not so cheerful) nod of grudging acknowledgement before he turned to Spock and said, voice deceptively light,

"Mr. Spock, I believe my quarters are the best place for us to have our discussion. Do you agree?"

And Spock hesitated only for a second while the tiniest trapped look flashed across his face before he seemed to collect himself and replied,

"I concur, Captain."

At that Jim pasted a smile on his face (the expression that would truly express how he was feeling right now would probably scare little children) and drawled,

"Excellent. Let's get to it then."

And at that he turned and began to make his way towards his quarters, not looking back to see if Spock had followed him (he didn't have to; he could just feel it, there were some benefits of this whole "warm and fuzzy feelings" things).

Once he reached the door he keyed in the code and stepped in and hovered by the door until Spock walked in past him (he wanted to make sure Spock didn't make a break for it just before the door; it was entirely possible from the look on his face). Once they were both inside he keyed in the lock code quickly (the Captain's one that only he could open; he wasn't about to allow anyone to walk in because they'd broken a nail and needed his assistance and disturb this discussion).

Once the code was keyed on and he was sure that the door wasn't coming open without his say, he made a show of calmly walking over to his table and sitting down and once he was comfortable he gestured Spock to do same. Once Spock was seated he allowed his First Officer a moment to fidget (it still freaked him out but at least now it meant they were going to be getting to the bottom of this) before he asked, his voice as sweet as honey,

"So, I believe I kept up my end of the deal. Would you agree?"

And Spock nodded tentatively in response (he was clearly waiting for the axe to drop; smart man) and at that Jim crossed his arms casually in front of his chest and said, his tone still innocent and sweet,

"Excellent, it's good to know we're on the same page. So now I believe it's your turn to tell me exactly what the fuck just happened!"

And although he managed to keep his ever growing sense of hysteria out of his voice he made sure that his tone conveyed that this was an order and that disobedience would not be tolerated (seriously, he might end up committing mass murder if he wasn't filled in soon and that would be, you know, bad).

Thankfully Spock seemed to pick up of the severity of his order and so after a few minutes of silence where he seemed to try and gather his words he finally said, exceeding hesitantly,

"Your counterpart and mine are...linked," and then he snapped his mouth shut immediately and the expression that crossed his face looked like the one Jim imagined he'd wear if he'd just admitted that logic was stupid (and it was, but it worked on Spock so well).

And although the fact that Spock was at least clearly willing to share with him eased a bit of his frustration (and it wasn't just because it eased that terrifying fear that Spock didn't trust him, although that played a big part) "linked" didn't really explain diddlysquat and so he asked quietly (and a great deal less severely),

"Linked how?"

Spock hesitated for another moment and it almost looked like he was going to bolt before he said, terribly quietly, as if he was letting the secret meaning of life slip,

"They are...bonded."

And at that Jim confusion only dropped about a centimetre more because that was slightly more informative, but only in the fact that it clearly meant something serious to Spock because bonded still didn't anything to him (this was clearly a Vulcan thing and Vulcan's weren't exactly known for being all that "sharey" about their feelings). A bond could pretty much mean anything, because he and Spock had a bond of friends (even if he wanted it to be more) but he and Chekov had a bond as well of the "me Captain you little brother figure who has huge puppy dog eyes" type and he was pretty sure Spock wasn't talking about that kind of bond.

"I take it you're not talking about a 'bestest buddies, friends 'til the end, bromance' kind of bond are you?"

He asked with a relative amount of certainty because that just didn't fit the 'I'm sweating like tiny fire elves are dancing a jig under my skin' thing that James had been suffering from, not to mention the fact that he'd pretty much come back from the dead to see Spock (because unless that was the most epic friendship that had ever existed then he was definitely missing something and he had a sneaking suspicion as to what it was; and said suspicion definitely had the potential to freak him out).

Spock shock his head minutely in response, the movement barely a jerk of his head before he whispered so quietly that Jim had to lean forward to hear him,

"They are 't'hy'a."

And before Jim even had time to ask exactly what that very lyrical and obviously Vulcan word meant (and perhaps why Spock had said it like it was the most precious thing in the world) Spock raised his eyes to his and the intensity in that look simply stole his breath.

"It is a Vulcan concept that dates back to before the time of Surak, that describes a bond between two people that is closer that than any other. There is no standard equivalent, but there are three that come close. Friend, brother,"

Spock said quietly his voice as strong as steal and so intense that Jim couldn't look away before he paused for a second, clearly debating something (likely whether or not to say the third thing; hey, he wasn't so enamoured with Spock's eyes that he'd lost the ability to count).

"Lover,"

Spock said finally after what seemed like an eternity and at that word Spock's voice faltered and he looked away and at the mixture of emotions that flashed across Spock's face Jim felt his own heart shudder in response before reality reasserted himself and he brought himself back down to earth.

And although it was a bit terrifying to have it out in the open like that the truth was he wasn't all that surprised because ever since he'd gotten James from this very room a little while ago he'd had the impression that whatever was happening (and he still didn't really know what exactly that was but he planned to find out) wasn't just a 'between friends' kind of thing, because he couldn't imagine anyone going through what James had been going through for a friend. He knew that he would have walked through fire for Spock, but that was because he'd loved him and so although it had seemed impossible it hadn't exactly been a stretch to imagine that James might have felt something similar towards his own Spock.

But he was also pragmatic enough to not let his hope get the best of him because he was viscerally aware of the fact that James wasn't him. He'd never had to grow up with the shadow of a dead father hanging over his head and only the idea of a mother because his face kept the real one away in space. James was everything that he should have been without Nero; him, but without all the fucked up parts (beyond Tarsus IV) and so the fact that he had the love of his own Spock didn't mean anything in relation to him and Spock beyond what he'd already known; that love just wasn't in the cards for him in this universe (and the fact that Spock hadn't even been able to look him in the eye when he'd mentioned lovers pretty much just proved that).

But although that thought made him want to lash out and just pound something until his fists bled so that he wouldn't be able to feel the gaping wound in his heart the only person in the room was Spock, and the truth was that it wasn't his fault that he didn't love Jim and so he took a deep breath to try and calm himself (nothing more than a band to cover a phaser wound, but at least it held in some the blood). Once he was sure he could speak without his voice fracturing he said quietly, as not to startle Spock,

"So how does being...bonded cause whatever they were going through?"

At his question Spock's head snapped back up and those human brown eyes fixed on his with a piercing look that gave Jim the impression that Spock was trying figure out if he was playing some kind of game by not reacting to the whole "lovers" thing (or if he'd had some kind of nervous breakdown, which in all honesty might end up being true if Spock pushed and he had to spend more time thinking about how James had managed to get the one thing he'd give anything for).

After a few moments of observation Spock broke their gaze (Jim figured he must have gotten an answer that suited him) and turned his eyes to his feet before he responded quietly,

"It is not something that is spoken of. However since it would be dishonourable of me to break my promise to you I shall make an exception this once. I ask only in return that you do not mention it to anyone else, as it is something that my race prefers to keep silent."

And Jim couldn't help but nod in response because whatever it was had to be pretty damn serious if Spock was having a harder time saying it than he'd had announcing that their alternative selves were lovers (because he'd of thought that would have been the biggie of this conversation) before he replied, equally as quiet,

"You have my word."

At that Spock nodded again before he began to speak, the hesitation born out of breaking a Vulcan taboo clear in his voice,

"It is called...pon farr, and it is the Vulcan mating drive. It is a cycle that occurs every seven years and when it does we have our control ripped from us, until we are left with nothing more than our baser instincts. We become nothing more than animals, aware of nothing other than our mates and our need to...breed,"

Spock finished and then he looked down again, a faint green flush covering his cheeks (Jim could relate; he was a little flushed himself, but for a completely different reason than he imagined Spock was).

For a moment there was nothing but silence as Spock stared at his feet and Jim tried to fit that little tidbit into the situation with James. If he had understood everything Spock had said correctly, then their alternative selves were lovers and when this mating thing had hit them their bond had somehow caused them to both nearly die of...lust? And although he was perfectly aware of the fact that this wasn't the time for laughter the fact that a race that valued logic as highly as the Vulcan's did had a seven year sex itch programmed into them almost him laugh (before he remembered that his alternative self was likely currently enjoying that particular side benefit and any humour he might have felt died a quick and yet somehow still agonizing death).

But he pushed that thought away as he realised that even though he now understood the why of this particular mind fuck there were still a lot of things that didn't make sense and so he looked back over at Spock and asked,

"You said it was a seven year thing, but James had clearly been...gone for more than seven years. Your elder self must have, you know, made alternative arrangements for all of those times. Why couldn't he have done the same thing now?"

And although part of him was simply squirming at the awkwardness of actually having to ask why the Spock's alternative self simply hadn't simply visited the Vulcan equivalent of a brothel or just found some very understanding Vulcan to help him out the rest of him was actually pretty interested in the answer and so he kept his eyes locked on Spock's and didn't back down. In response Spock cleared his throat once before he said, a strange kind of choked quality to his words,

"I believe that the circumstances surrounding your alternative self's...fate were such that their bond did not break but rather stayed dormant and so my elder self did not suffer from pon farr during that time. However, when your alternative self entered this universe their bond became active again and my alternative self immediately re-entered the cycle out of the seven time period as a consequence of missing it for so many years."

At that Spock paused for a moment to make some kind of decision regarding his next words and Jim took the time to analyse what he'd just said. Spock's "dormant bond" theory could definitely explain why they'd gone into the thing as soon as James had entered this universe, but it didn't answer why Spock's elder self simply hadn't found someone else if he'd thought that his Jim was dead (he couldn't have imagined James having a problem with that; if it was him and he'd died he'd want Spock to live no matter the cost).

Spock, who had clearly come to a decision regarding what he was going to say and who had also clearly realized the gaping hole in his explanation finally replied, his voice quiet again,

"I believe that my alternative self felt that death would be preferable to having to bond with someone who was not his t'hy'la. And since he was not in possession of the knowledge that your alternative self was alive and therefore that he could...spend his pon farr with him, he cloistered himself away so that he could die and end his aloneness."

After he finished speaking Spock immediately became interested in his boots again while Jim's head simply reeled at that because he couldn't find the fucking logic in that anywhere. Spock's elder self must have known that his Jim wouldn't have begrudged his life and even if he hadn't there was no way that he could have seen death as the most logical option; no way that he would have _chosen_ death as the most logical option. That thought was one that he simply couldn't keep in and so he blurted out, his shock clear in his voice,

"Where's the logic in that? And furthermore, how on earth did _you_ come to that completely illogical conclusion?"

Because there was no way that his first officer had deduced that using logic (in fact he couldn't think of anything that would have lead to _that_) and so the fact that _Spock_ had come to that conclusion was just as great a mystery as the conclusion itself.

Spock became almost as still as death in response; more brittle even then when he had come to check on him in sickbay and Bones had cracked his dead fish joke and Jim was about to reach forward to put a hand on Spock's arm and ask if he was alright when those eyes were once again raised to his and he froze where he was sitting because if he'd thought that they'd been intense before than he'd been sorely wrong. He'd said before that Spock's eyes were the windows to his soul and now he had the impression that he was string straight into it; every feeling, every nuance of his first officer on display and the sight was breath taking.

He managed to pull himself back into the real world as Spock; never breaking their eye contact finally spoke, his voice more serious and somehow more emotional than Jim had ever heard it before.

"It is logical if he loved your alternative self enough to wish not to live without him. And in answer to your second query, I came to that conclusion because it was what I would have done if you had been my t'hy'la and you had been taken from me and I had been presented with the choice of bonding with another or death. I would have chosen death as a welcome reprieve from having to spend the rest of my life without you," Spock finished, his eyes still locked on Jim's and Jim simply decided that his brain had just imploded because that had sounded like Spock had just confessed to loving him and that just wasn't possible.

And so he took a millisecond and attempted to dissect what Spock had said with his fragmented brain to see what he had been really saying before his own love sick brain had interfered (there was no other explanation for it) but once he come up with nothing Jim simply resorted to blurting out,

"What?"

In a manner that he was sure made him sound like a complete idiot but at that moment he could give a fuck because had much bigger things to deal with.

At his exclamation Spock's resolve seemed to become stronger as instead of fidgeting or flinching he simply repeated,

"I came to the conclusion because it was I would have done in that situation of you were my 't'hy'la."

And because that still didn't compute Jim jumped so that he could pace anxiously before he said, almost frantically,

"No I heard you. I just mean...why?"

And although he was aware that his question was disjointed and fragmented Spock clearly didn't have any trouble understanding it as he stood up gracefully so that they were both once again at eye level and said, steadily and clearly into the silence of the room,

"Because I love you."

A/N: So yes, I'm perfectly aware of how mean it is to end here. I'm very, very sorry about that, but the way it is for me right now is that Finals are coming up in 2 weeks and so I don't have time to breathe much less write. The next chapter will be the conclusion to this chapter instead of being a chapter with old-Jim; I had intended just to make the two chapters one big one, but once I hit 20 thousand on the word count I figured that might be a little excessive so I split it (even though it went against every OCD instinct I had because it messed up my pattern but, meh). I'm almost done the second part of this chapter, but since I don't have any free time it's unlikely that it will be posted until the 17th of December (after my exams) but I will try to get it up earlier (but don't hold your breath). I can promise however that the next chapter will definitely make me up the rating on this fic (so please wait for it!).

That said, reviews and constructive criticism are always welcome (because they make me happy, ok!) and I hope this can tide you over until I can get the rest up.


	8. Of Moving Mountains and Other Miracles

Part Seven - Of Moving Mountains and Other Miracles (Have a Little Faith in Me)

Disclaimer: Star Trek and the boys belong to Gene Roddenberry, who I am not. I am only borrowing them with the greatest respect, and promise to return them in sort of (this chapter they got a little dirtier than usually, but they did have a lot of fun doing it) pristine condition.

* * *

"_Do you know about being with somebody? Wanting to be? If I had the whole universe, I'd give it to you... When I see you, I feel like I'm hungry all over. Do you know how that feels?"_

-- **Charlie Evans** (Charlie X; that one with the really angry kid that made people become lizards and other weird stuff with his mind)

* * *

The silence in the room that followed Spock's statement was powerful and heavy and Jim found himself unable to even offer anything in response as his mind had simply stalled and was completely failing to restart, because it just wasn't possible that Spock loved him. He was the fuck up, the one that everyone left and he had come to terms with that (and as long as he'd had his ship and his friends he'd even been working on being ok with that; he wasn't there yet but it had been a possibility) and so really, for Spock to love him it meant that he laws of physics had changed and the world had suddenly become a fair and just place and he was relatively positive neither of those things had just happened.

It was at that thought he looked back at Spock who was still standing across the room, looking determined but a tiny bit unsure of himself and at that look he couldn't help but blurt out,

"You can't love me. When I love people or when they love me they always leave and you're still here so you can't love me."

And his statement was rushed but urgent, as he had a desperate need to make Spock understand how impossible that this was; to convince him that he was better off with someone else who wasn't such a fuck up; someone who deserved him.

However after his blurted exclamation the insecurity on Spock's face disappeared, as if what Jim had said had been the last piece to some puzzle that he had been try to solve and so, with a look that spoke of both tenderness and determination Spock stepped closer to him slowly and said, in a tone that allowed nothing more than the truth,

"Then they were fools and not worthy of you. I promise you that I will never do such a thing, even if you do not return my regard. If that is the case I will never mention this matter again and hope that we can remain friends and comrades, but I will not leave you, unless you ask me to do so."

And after Spock finished speaking he crossed his arms behind his back and took another small step towards him until they were nearly close enough to touch before he simply stopped and waited for Jim to make his decision.

But Jim was still in the middle of a full blown crisis because even though he'd listened to Spock's words and heard the sincerity in that much beloved voice he still couldn't completely believe, because he was James T. Kirk, and good, beautiful, precious things did not simply fall into his lap without demanding a pound his flesh in return. And yet, it was so tempting to believe, so tempting to simply let himself go and finally, finally let himself truly love, because maybe just maybe this would be the time that he'd be wrong. Maybe Spock truly wouldn't leave (Vulcan's couldn't lie after all) and even in the likely chance that he was wrong and Spock did leave (when he'd finally realized what a shitty deal he'd gotten), wouldn't it be so much better to have at least had him first before he lost him for good?

But then he was broken out of his thoughts by Spock who, ever so gently reached up and ran a single fingertip cross the curve of Jim's cheek bone and wasn't the gesture but rather the look in those precious eyes (he never had anyone look at him like that; an honest to god, 'my world is a better place with you in it' look and the fact that was in Spock's eyes was just better than any dream) that made him decide that this time was the time to finally believe and so he surrendered and let himself fall; in love, into everything, still almost not expecting to be caught.

"I love you,"

He whispered finally, his tone heartfelt but defeated because he couldn't fight this; he had no defence against this man and so despite the fact that every instinct in his body was screaming against this because it would hurt too much to lose it, he simply had no more will to fight. At his defeated exclamation Spock made a lurch as if to move forward, and a slight look of something resembling awe flashed across his face but Jim put his hands up to halt the movement, because there was still something he needed to get out.

"You're the marrow in my bones and I love you. And maybe I shouldn't because you deserve so much more than me and because I know that since I love you there's an extremely good chance that you'll leave me and if you do I'll simply shatter into pieces to small to be put back together. But I'm a selfish bastard and so now that you've offered me the one thing I never thought I get I can't help but grab it with both hands."

And he paused for a second to try and catch his breath and he watched Spock watch him, those brilliant and precious eyes fixed on his every movement in a way that made him feel warm inside. When he was sure he could speak again without choking on his own emotions he continued seriously,

"The only thing I ask in return is this; if you're going to leave me, please do it now and spare us the pain because if you don't I'm not sure how I'll be able to let go if you decide to do it later."

And as he finished he looked down at his feet and waited for the sound of Spock feet's and the swish of the door that would signify that he'd finally seen the truth in what Jim had said an that he was leaving.

And after a moment he did hear the soft sound of Spock's booted feet and he kept his eyes firmly on the floor so that he wouldn't have to look at his back as he left and took Jim's heart with him, but a second later those very boots, instead of heading for the door, appeared in his line of vision nearly touching his own. Then he felt a hand reach up and gently grasp his chin and he allowed his head to be brought up slowly so that he could meet Spock's eyes, so very close to his own and when he did the amount of love there simply stunned him.

For a moment he simply stood there and drank in that gaze like water after and extreme drought before Spock whispered quietly into the tiny space between them,

"If it is agreeable with you, then I would like to stay until you tell me to leave."

And at that Jim felt like a great wave of love had washed over him, filling up all of the broken and fractured parts of him and so he moved a fraction closer to Spock, until he could feel the heat of that inhuman body on his skin and whispered,

"Then you'll have to stay forever, because I'm never letting you go. Does that sound agreeable to you?"

And although a tiny part of him was still waiting for Spock to simply pull away and leave him alone, Spock simply moved even closer still, until there was no more space between them and whispered, his words nothing more than a breath of air on Jim's top lip,

"That should suffice."

And at that Jim wondered if the smile on his face was going to break it; so full of relief and love and happiness, but then he decided it didn't matter because Spock was smiling back; a real, full faced, emotion filled smile and so finally, feeling like everything was going to be ok (it was an intensely new feeling to him and he instantly decided that he like it) he slowly brought his mouth to those perfect lips for a kiss.

It should have been a fight; their youth, virility and the fierceness of their previous interactions shouldn't allowed it to be anything else, but it wasn't. They were both too aware of how precious and fragile this thing was; a newborn that could be so easily shattered and so Jim began slowly and gently, with nothing more than the most faint brush of his lips against Spock's, barely even a whisper of a kiss.

And they simply stood there for a moment, moving nothing more than their heads for the slightest brush of lips; the contrast of his Spock's thin, muscular lips against his own, softer and fuller ones somehow both erotic and sweet, the sound of their movements like a continuous whisper of _this is Spock, kissing me_. And although he was at a loath to break up the perfection of the moment he couldn't help but want more and so he took a tiny step towards Spock, even though he'd thought they wouldn't be able to be any closer and Spock followed his lead until they were practically sharing a skin, their bodies brushing all the way down their lengths; calf to calf, thigh to thigh, chest to chest and finally (and perhaps most importantly) groin to groin.

At the tiny sigh of pleasure that escaped from Spock's lips at the gentle brush of their groins together Jim let himself grow bolder and he slowly raised his arms to the hem of Spock's shirt where he grasped it and slowly began to pull it upwards, drawing his fingertips up the flesh that was uncovered as he did so. They had to break apart for a second for him to get the shirt over Spock's head and so with the tiniest nip on Spock's bottom lip Jim moved back and he pulled the shirt off, which as it was dragged over Spock's head, ruffled that lovely cap up hair. After he'd gotten the garment off he took a second to enjoy the sight of a half naked Spock; nipples hard and faintly green, like apples with a liberal dose of smooth chest hair that he couldn't wait to sink his fingers in. And of course, like the cherry atop the cake there was all off that ruffled hair and it was in that moment that Jim decided it probably a testament to how truly in love that he was that the sight of Spock's hair untidy was more erotic than anything he'd seen in a long time.

Spock, who was clearly no slowpoke, shuddered once at the scratch of his nails and from the nip to his lips, and then almost the second after Jim had finished his admiring look he fisted his own in the hem of Jim's own shirt and yanked it upwards, pulling it off in one swift movement. He then immediately followed the gesture by reattaching their lips forcefully, this time with a hunger that had not been present before, plunging his tongue into Jim's mouth. Not to be undone, Jim once again brought their chests together and this time they both gasped at the headiness of their naked flesh as it brushed together and Jim took the opportunity to reach up and tweak those lovely apple green nipples gently, rolling them between his fingers and revelling in the tiny mewing sounds that Spock made in response.

But the urgency that Jim had always felt in this sort of situations wasn't there; now there was only the need to discover, to savour this for as long as he could and so he was perfectly content to stand there in the middle of the room and simply sample the taste of Spock and enjoy pleasure born from the gentle press of their groins together. But even though the he was all for going slow and savouring, he was still him and so slowly he began to push forward, gently herding Spock towards the bed and Spock let him, even going so far as to take little steps backwards (which made Jim smile into Spock's mouth because it was nice to know they were on the same page) even as he pushed his mouth forward for further contact.

They continued their strangely erotic almost crab walk until Jim felt the impact of Spock's knees hitting the bed and since he knew exactly how hard it would be to remove the remainder of their clothing while laying down he reached out and grasped Spock's waist to steady him. The maneuver also had the added bonus of putting his hands in an excellent place to begin that whole 'let's get naked plan' that he was really looking forward to and so when he was sure Spock wasn't about to fall over he leisurely began to move his fingers towards the fastenings of Spock's trousers, mapping the naked skin of Spock's abdomen inch by inch.

He also took a moment to, without breaking their kiss, slip his boots off with his feet (getting naked was always made awkward when someone forgot to take off their shoes and then ended up flat on their face when they try to slip their pants off; look, even he'd been a novice at this at one point) and he was pleased that Spock had clearly gotten the picture when after a second he did the same, kicking them off to the side without a care in favour of plunging his tongue in Jim's mouth and commencing what seemed like a through and extremely pleasurable search for Jim's tonsils (he'd had them removed but he wasn't about to tell Spock that).

After a few minutes (he'd been a little distracted by the fact that Spock was apparently trying to suck his soul out through his mouth; it was almost working too) he reached his goal and he greeted the very nice bulge he found there with a friendly little squeeze that caused Spock to gasp and then pant into his mouth. After another second he moved slowly back up to the fastenings and with infinite slowness he used fingers that trembled slightly (this was Spock and so therefore it was more important that any of numerous other times he'd done this to strangers) to release the clip and then with a gentle shove downwards he let gravity do the rest of the work and he watched as those pristine, never rumpled trousers fell to the floor in a heap, where they were then promptly kicked away by Vulcan clad in nothing more than a pair of grey, Starfleet issue briefs and who was clearly not interested in the state of his clothes.

Spock however was definitely interested in returning the favour, a message that was quickly telegraphed to Jim as after another soul sucking kiss Spock pulled back for a second so that he could move those ever efficient fingers to the waistband of Jim's own pants and he couldn't help but gasp as those inhumanly hot fingers rubbed against a much neglected (in his opinion) part of his anatomy through the fabric of his pants before they moved up and in a single efficient movement unfastened and completely removed his pants, which fell to his ankles.

The move, although very efficient also left Spock a little over dressed because he was James T. Kirk and so underwear? Not exactly something he really believed in (they were just to freaking restricting). He'd thought that it was a relatively well known thing (he'd heard a couple of ensigns betting on it and commando had definitely been leading over all the other options) but Spock apparently hadn't applied that particular facet of his personality to this particular situation, if the slightly choked off moan (that could have been a gasp; he was really loving this new array of Spock sounds) and the very intent stare (hungry really, and he had to hold in the shiver at the thought) at his newly exposed and very happy to be free cock were any indication.

And because he was pretty sure that they were about one wrong step away from jumping each other (which would be fun but over way too fast) he, without taking his eyes off Spock's, slowly removed his feet from his trousers one at a time before kicking them away, viscerally aware of Spock's scorching eyes that followed his every move. He then assumed the most nonchalant pose he could while in possession of a cock that was harder than it had ever been, before he said casually (although he imagined that the desire in his voice made it a bit rougher than normal),

"I think you're overdressed lover. Want to even out the playing field?"

And he accompanied his last words with a hungry glance and a lick of his lips at that very nice bulge that was still concealed by a pair of regulation briefs.

Spock, his eyes nearly black with desire simply reached down and ripped his underwear off, nearly splitting the seams in his haste before straightened up and stood without shame and he locked his eye's with Jim's and practically growled,

"Will this suffice?"

And Jim couldn't help but take a minute to look (stare; it was only fair, Spock had already had his turn after all) at the flesh that had been uncovered. Thick and long with vein running up the length from the base to the crown that pulsed under his gaze; different in arrangement from his own only in the double ridge near the head and the dark emerald green colour (his new absolute favourite), it was everything he'd imaged and more (and he had quite the imagination). As he moved forward he leisurely brought his gaze back to those lovely desire blackened eyes and once he was standing in front of Spock he licked his lips again before he whispered, voice a purr,

"That will definitely suffice Mr. Spock."

And he followed his words by raising his arms quickly to Spock's shoulders and pushed gently but swiftly and the momentum pushed Spock off balance and he fell backwards onto the bed.

Jim simply stood and took a moment to enjoy the sight of Spock, sprawled wantonly on his bed before the temptation simply grew too great and so he climbed atop him, stretching himself out so that their bodies aligned and they both gasped at the first brush of their naked cocks brushing together, the feel of Spock's flesh like liquid magma on his own over sensitized skin. This time is was Jim who was the aggressor of their kiss as he plunged his tongue into that inhumanly hot mouth and tried to see if he could catch the taste of Spock and preserve it in his own cells, so that he'd never have to go a second without it (he wasn't sure it was working, but if it wasn't he was perfectly content with his plan B; spend the rest of his life kissing Spock to he'd never have the opportunity to forget that taste).

After a few moments that could have been eons he felt Spock's hands move up to tweak his nipples and at the nearly overwhelming surge of pleasure that rushed through him at the sensation he realized that he was definitely going to have to get control of this situation or he was going to lose control very quickly and savouring would be out of the question (he'd been dreaming about this for months after all, and restraint had never been one of his best skills, especially when it came to something he'd never thought he'd have). And so with that thought in mind he broke away from Spock's mouth and with a heated look in his direction he began to map his way down Spock neck to his chest, lavishing opened mouth kisses and little love bites that were sure to leave marks on the flesh that he encountered, revelling in the sounds that Spock made with each.

Once he reached the center of Spock chest he looked up at Spock's eyes and waited until those slightly unfocused ones met his and never breaking the contact he lowered his head and gave one of those pretty green nipples a teasing little lick and Spock made an exceedingly funny little noise in response before he looked down and said, a slight edge of frustration in his voice,

"I have never understood why these structures have persisted in men. They have no logical function in a being that cannot produce young."

But from the breathy tone of Spock's voice that was overweighing the frustration and how he had nearly choked trying to get the words out Jim was relatively sure that Shakespeare's saying about protesting too much was the one that would best fit this situation and so he decided to test his theory by lowering his head swiftly to Spock's chest and taking that same perfect green nipple in his mouth and sucking strongly. After a few second where he simply revelled in the hiccupy little gaps that spewed from Spock's mouth in response (he was definitely marking this spot down for future reference) he bit down on the tender flesh gently but swiftly and then he had to press his hand down on Spock's chest to keep him still as the force of his pleasure filled gasp had nearly jerked him right off the bed (yeah, nipples were definitely going on his 'how to drive Spock out of his logical mind' list).

He smiled once as he leaned down to sooth the sting of his bite with his tongue and when Spock simply squeaked with pleasure Jim felt his smile curve upwards slightly with a devil's edge of satisfaction and so he made a show of licking his way over to the other nipple for a single teasing suck, before pulling his head away. At Spock's muted moan of protest he chuckled and raised his eyes to Spock's to purr (he talked during sex; it was just part of his personality and it had always been one of his greatest weapons),

"Don't worry. One day I'll spend hours just sucking those pretty apple green nipples of yours. I'll bring you to the brink over and over again until you're simply gagging for release and then I'll make you come and come and come until you forget you own name and all you remember is exactly why these pretty little things exist men."

And his smile only became more evil as Spock's cheeks darkened with arousal and he let out a tortured little moan at the idea (and the images that Jim was projecting; touch telepathy was definitely tied with talking as his favourite kink) and so he lowered his voice for further affect, until sex was practically dripping from his words and he purred,

"But right now there are some other pretty green parts of you I'd like to get acquainted with. That sound good to you?"

And he accompanied his question with a slow and friendly caress to that lovely green cock and at Spock's jerky and disjointed nods of agreement he smiled once slowly before his whispered, voice only slightly smug,

"Thought it might."

And he cut off any sound of indignation Spock might have made at his tone with another brief suck on that pretty little nipple before he gave it a brief little farewell kiss and began to map a trail of deep, sucking kisses down Spock's abdomen.

Once he'd reached Spock's belly button he looked up again at those dark eyes, black and slightly unfocused with desire but still fixed on the every movement of his head and he waited until they cleared before he smiled, all innocence and charm and purred,

"We seem to be doing pretty well with those vestigial structures so far. How about this one?"

And, never taking his eyes of Spock's he swiftly lowered his head and dipped his tongue into the little indentation, giving it a few tiny licks before pulling back with an obscene little slurp that had Spock making that funny squeaking sound again (and one day he was going to see how many times he could make Spock make that sound; not only because he loved having proof that he could reduce Spock's control to nothing, but also because the sound went straight to his cock, which was a really nice side benefit).

At Spock's response Jim couldn't help but chuckle, the sound low and raspy before he drawled,

"I guess we'll put that one on the list too. Maybe it'll even get its own day."

And as he spoke he projected an image of Spock, bound to the bed while he did nothing more than lavish his tongue in that pretty little crevice and count then number of times Spock squeaked.

Suddenly a perfectly devilish thought regarding how to take advantage of the increased arousal that was still clearly coursing through the Vulcan's veins from the last image he had projected occurred to him and so Jim moved down the rest of the way and in one swift motion took that beautiful green cock into his mouth until the tip moved past his nonexistent gag reflex (something that he'd always believed to be a sign from whatever had created him that this was where his talents laid; his bed partners had always seemed to agree) and he wrapped his lips around the the root and sucked hard, hallowing out his cheeks completely. Immediately following the action he had to place his hands on Spock's abdomen to keep him down again as his hips jerked furiously upwards and this time the sound he made was closer to a growl than anything else and at the sound Jim had to press his own cock against the mattress for a moment to make sure he didn't come.

Once he was sure he was in control again he raised his head so that only the crown with those lovely double ridges was still in his mouth and after tonguing his way around the crown he swiftly deep throated Spock again and as he did he revelled in the tiny, jerky motions that Spock's hips made as he tried to stop himself from thrusting up into Jim's mouth. He brought his eyes up Spock's and at the half crazed look in those now black eyes he smiled around the cock in his mouth before he sealed his lips around the base and hummed, hard and then he was treated to the sight of Spock in the thrall of orgasm; mouth open in a silent scream, eyes nothing more than tiny slits but somehow still focused on his own and the rush of warm semen down his throat as Spock emptied himself, hips still making those tiny jerking movements long after the fluid had stopped being expelled.

Once Jim was sure he was finished he let Spock simply lay and recover there as he licked the semen that he had been unable to swallow from Spock's now flaccid length. The taste was pleasant; warm and faintly sweet, almost like Kahlúa and a very nice change from the slight bitterness of human semen. He decided it definitely had the potential to become to become addictive and at the thought of explaining that particular addiction to a counsellor he couldn't help but chuckle slightly.

The sound seemed to rouse Spock from his post orgasmic daze (and Jim was going to be charitable and not brag to everyone he knew that he'd managed to make Spock speechless) as he raised his head slightly off the pillow that it had been resting on and gave him a slightly fuzzy, but unmistakably quizzically look. Jim smiled once gently before he responded (he didn't want Spock to think he'd been laughing at him or at his equipment, which was most certainly nothing to laugh at),

"Your taste is addictive lover. I was just imaging how to explain that to a therapist without scarring them for life."

He was pleased when Spock gave the tiniest smile in response before he replied, voice weak from his release but till gently tinged with pleasure and the slightest hint of amusement,

"I do not believe there would be any way to do so. Also, there are no addictive agents in Vulcan ejaculate."

And Jim smiled softly at that (because Spock joking about sex was somehow insanely endearing; and also very hot, a fact that his very neglected cock agreed with whole heartedly) before he replied,

"You're wrong about that. The addictive agent in your semen is you and you've enslaved me."

And then his smile twisted slightly; became less soft and instead took on a sultry edge and he lowered his voice so he could purr as he stroked that flaccid cock slowly,

"Made me nothing more than a junkie, so hungry for a taste. Perhaps I won't be satisfied with just sucking you dry after shift. Perhaps I'll be so addicted that I'll have to ambush you everywhere to get my fix," and he pitched his voice lower as he continued to stroke the cock that was slowly hardening again in response to his words.

"I'd take you in the turbo lift. We'd have to be quick there; just time to unbutton your fly and swallow that gorgeous cock of yours down and then suck and hum until you came so I could drink down that addictive semen of yours. Or maybe in sickbay, after a mission," he purred, voice pure sex and he delighted in the shudder that ran through Spock's entire body at his words and the images he was projecting.

"I'd sneak into your bed and pull up that stupid robe Bones would make you wear and just tease you. Nothing more than little licks and sucks that would make you go mad and you'd have to shove a hand in your mouth to muffle the noise otherwise Bones would come out and get an eyeful of exactly what my mouth was made for. Or on the bridge," he purred and his smile became positively dangerous at the jump of Spock's arousal in his hand, that was nearly fully hard again.

"You like that one," he whispered smugly and he continued when he saw Spock's focus those lovely eyes on him again (it took a moment; Jim could relate).

"That would be fun, huh? We'd sneak in during that overlap during shift change if we wanted it fast or when the ship was in for refuelling on a Starbase if we wanted it slow and I'd let you sit in the chair; _my chair_, because that's just the kind of guy I am. And I'd kneel between your legs and unzip your pants and I take this lovely green cock of yours out and just worship it and you could watch the stars twinkle as I made you come and come and just drank every drop down until you were dry."

And as he finished Spock made a choked noise that Jim recognised very well from his new catalogue of 'Noises Spock Makes During Sex' and so he slid his hand down to the base of Spock's shaft and squeezed firmly to stop the orgasm that he knew was coming. At Spock's moan he raised his eyes to meet Spock's and in response to the desperation there he tutted, his voice as casual as he could make it,

"Uh, uh, uh. It's my turn now lover. That's logical, right? You get a turn and then I get a turn. It's only fair after all," he finished and he aimed his most innocent smile in Spock direction (although he imaged that the fact that he was nearly eye fucking him likely ruined the innocent act).

Spock panted for a few seconds in an attempt to regain control before he final said, his voice low and gravelly and almost a growl,

"And what do you have in mind for your turn?"

"I'm so glad you asked," he said, making sure to keep his voice light as he continued,

"Because I think it's a pretty good plan. I want to fuck you; I want to take my fingers and stretch that tight little rosebud of yours until you're loose enough to take my cock. And then I want you to do just that; I want to watch your anus quiver around my cock as I fuck you, slow and hard until we're both blind with pleasure. And then, just before we lose our minds to orgasm I want you to do that bond thing so that we'll never be apart again. Does that sound good to you?"

He asked and now he had to force his voice to stay light as the thought of doing what he'd said to Spock caused a tsunami of desire to wash over him (and if he started drooling and panting it was going to ruin the effect he was going for).

Spock answer was a harsh growl, as he never taking his eyes away from Jim's, reached over and blindly grabbed the tube of lube that was sitting on the bed table (luck favoured the prepared and Jim was planning on getting very lucky) and slapped it into Jim's open palm. Jim couldn't help but smirk a bit as he open the cap and squeezed some of the gel out, warming it with his fingers.

"I guess I'll take this to mean you think it's pretty good plan too?"

He inquired teasingly and Spock simply glared at him; an honest to god 'fuck me glare' (or more specifically a 'if you don't fuck me you're getting the nerve pinch glare', which was somehow hotter than the former ever could have been) and the heat of the that glare went straight to Jim's already as hard as diamonds cock and so Jim wasted no more time teasing as he brought two of his newly slicked fingers down to that perfect opening and plunged them in without warning and then groaned quietly at the tightness he found there, the sound mixing with the harsh one that Spock panted out.

At the noise he gave Spock a moment to adjust to the stretch while he watched that beautiful angular face like a hawk for any signs of pain. When he was sure that there was nothing but hunger there he gently started to move his fingers, scissoring them to stretch the tight flesh of Spock's entrance before pulling them almost all the way out and then thrusting them back in hard with a twist before he began to search for the Vulcan's prostate. After a few seconds of searching where the only sound in the room was the soft sucking noise that his fingers made and the harsh pants that spilled from Spock's lips he felt his fingers connect with a hard bump and when Spock's eyes simply rolled back into his head in response he decided he'd hit pay dirt (and afterwards, if he had any brain cells left to rub together he was going to challenge Spock to explain the logic in having a prostate; now however, he was just going to enjoy it).

He teased that hard little bump mercilessly, swirling his fingers around so that the blunt edges of his nails could scrape gently against it and at the unexpected friction Spock's eyes shot open and he made a choking sound that went straight to Jim's cock and so he withdrew his fingers slighting before impatiently thrusting back in with three fingers and at the sound that Spock made he couldn't help but speak, his voice rough with the force of his desire.

"I wish you could see this Spock. See how fucking gorgeous you look around my fingers, that beautiful little rosebud of yours stretched so wide. And you're so tight and so fucking greedy, that delectable little ass of yours just grasping at my fingers to try and keep them in."

Spock simply let out a soundless gasp in response as he clenched his ass around Jim's probing fingers uncontrollably and Jim couldn't help but smirk, just the tiniest bit before he took it up another notch and purred,

"Next time I'll let you do this to me, so you can see exactly how it looks. Can you imagine it? How my ass would look just clutching at your fingers; my entrance just quivering as you take me apart. And you'd have and added advantage over me because you have those sensitive Vulcan fingers, so every clutch of my ass around those fingers of yours would be just like if I was doing it to your cock, huh?"

And then he paused for a moment to draw in a breath (and some much needed control) and to slowly wrap his free hand around the base of that lovely green cock before he continued, because he was pretty sure that what he had in mind next was going to send Spock over the top, and that just wasn't on the agenda yet. So, hand still thrusting, he pitched his voice lower and he let his smile become deadly as he purred,

"And maybe, just maybe I'd let you fist me. I'd let you lube up those gorgeous fingers of yours and then slide then up my ass until your whole hand was up there and you were so deep that I'd be able to feel you in my throat," and as he finished he squeezed his fingers hard around the base of his lover's cock to stop the orgasm that he'd predicted would result (there were times that being a very...experienced lover had its advantages; this somehow made all of those meaningless one night stands worth it).

This time when Spock brought his eyes up to meet his own there was nothing civilized; nothing Vulcan in those eyes. They were black; crazed and nearly feral and the desire in them was all consuming and so it took every last drop of the control he never known he'd had to whisper,

"Remember the order, lover. It's still my turn," and in response Spock simply grabbed his shoulders, almost hard enough to break the skin and growled, the sound more animal than human or Vulcan,

"Now!"

And it was not a request; not even a demand but rather an order and Jim found that he was helpless to do anything other than obey it (not that he wanted to disobey it, mind you) as he felt the last thread of his own severely frayed control break at the wildness in those cultured eyes and so with one more hard thrust of his fingers he yanked then out and in the next second he finally thrust in hard with his cock, bottoming out, the slap of their flesh together drowning out the moans that had escaped both of them.

And for a moment Jim simply remained still, trying desperately not to come at the incredible tightness of Spock's ass that clenched sporadically around his cock like a vice. He moved his hands up grab Spock's hips in a bruising grasp, both to allow the Vulcan to wrap his legs around his waist, as well as to desperately try to keep him still, as Spock's was trying to thrust downwards and sheath himself further on Jim's cock and that movement was simply going to end this before he could finish the plan.

Once he was finally sure he had enough control not to come at the slightest movement he pulled back out, until only the crown of his cock was still engulfed in that exquisitely tight tunnel before he thrust back in, slowly but strongly, aiming his thrust so that he connected solidly with Spock's prostate and then he swooped down and took those perfect's lips of Spock's in a bruising kiss, swallowing the moans that his thrust had prompted.

And they continued to kiss frantically as he kept up his rhythm of slow but strong thrusts, tongues duelling in a similar rhythm, eyes closed to try and stop the indescribable pleasure of Spock's tight, moist tunnel grasping greedily at his cock from overwhelming him. Somehow, every sensation was heightened; higher that they had ever been before, as if every drop of sweat that slid down his back to pool in the small of it, every drag of Spock's blunt nails as they grasped for purchase of his skin and left tiny, exquisitely stinging furrows in their wake and every quiver of Spock's entrance as it desperately grasped at his flesh to keep him inside were all bypassing his skin to simply rake across his nerves instead, leaving him enflamed and almost blind with pleasure.

And because he knew his own body very well (he'd had a lot of practice, after all) he knew that the heat that was building rapidly in his spine was a sure fire sign of an impending orgasm and so he broke his lips away from Spock for a moment to try and see how close he was (they were doing this together, even if he had to start conjugating Latin in his head to keep from coming). Thankfully however, Spock's face was drawn tight with all the signs of an impending climax and so Jim leaned forward and managed to gasp out through kiss-moistened lips,

"Bond us so that we'll never be apart; so that we can have this forever."

And in response Spock reached up with one hand and connected blindly with his forehead and then there was a surge of emotion, stronger and more potent than anything he had ever felt. There was no way to describe it, no way to quantify it or classify it; it was simply _Spock_, seeping into his pores like a wave, filling up all of the empty spaces in him until he finally, finally felt complete in a way that he'd never felt before.

And then suddenly he jolted from the golden, weightlessness of their new bond back into reality and the pleasure jolted into him like a tsunami as he was suddenly the taker; his cock being gripped by an impossible tightness and heat and the taken; spread open so wide, the hardness of his lover's cock so deep within him, jolting his prostate and filling him fuller than he'd ever been. And then he felt it, the impossible pleasure of his own release, twining with Spock's, racing up their spines until it simply permeated every cell in both of their bodies and then with one more snap of his hips they were finally coming; eyes screwed shut, mouths open in silent screams, vision fucking white with pleasure.

And then....Perfection.

When he finally returned to his body to he found himself still buried inside of his lover and completely covered in sweat, sprawled haphazardly over and equally sweaty Vulcan who seemed just as dazed as he was if the slack look on his face and the slow blinking was anything to go by. And although he knew that they could stay that way forever (that wouldn't be all that practical, or comfortable for that matter; they were both a bit sticky and sweaty) there was a huge part of him that wanted to just sit here in bask in this moment because it was in this moment that he finally believed what Spock had told him. Their new bond hummed between them, like a little bridge and across it came everything Spock was felling; the exhaustion, the sense of satisfaction and most importantly the love. Through the bond he could simply feel it; that Spock shared the same never ending love that Jim had for him in so it was in that moment that he realised that if he ever worried about Spock again he could just close his eyes and feel _this_ and it would all go away.

That particular knowledge would have made him giddy if he hadn't been so exhausted, but as he was him simply settled for propping himself up onto his elbows and looking down at Spock with a tender (and probably dopy) look on his face to inquire lazily,

"How long were we out for?"

Spock blinked a few more times, likely in an effort to clear his head before he said slowly,

"I...I have no idea," and at that he looked appropriately put out that his internal clock had failed him for a second, before he simply settled on looking a bit fascinated.

And although he found the fact that Spock was trying to analyze exactly how mind blowing sex could cause one to lose their inner sense of time seriously cute (and he'd never admit that out loud because that was likely to get him throttled) he could easily see it becoming a little weird and so to get his attention back he said,

"I should probably get off of you before we get permanently stuck together, because as tempting as that sounds in theory I think it might be uncomfortable in reality."

Thankfully at that Spock seemed to break out of his musings as he nodded once in response before he looked down and the prettiest green flush graced his cheeks (Jim decided that was probably the moment he realized they were actually still joined). However despite the part of him that really wanted to poke fun at exactly how much brain impairment having sex with him could do, after said (mind blowing) sex he was feeling exceedingly charitable and so he simply settled for smiling once and slowly beginning to move off of Spock, who aided in slowly moving backwards.

Once they were finally back to being two people (and Jim was so whipped that he was kind of mourning that fact) he had to take a second to simply stare at the picture that Spock made one his bed; the wantonness of the signs of sex that Jim had left on his body, ranging from the innocence of his tangled hair that Jim could remember causing with his fingers to the seductive trickle of his semen as it slowly (as if Spock wanted to keep it in; and that brought all kinds of heat to him) escaped from his entrance. And yet despite that there was an amazing sweetness to the moment; the warm hum of love and contentment from their bond and the almost impossible softness of simply having Spock here, where he'd never thought he would that was somehow better than the erotic sensations (and that was likely an epiphany he should have had a long time ago, but hey, better late than never).

So it was that; the impossible sweetness of the moment that simply had him cleaning himself and Spock off with the sheets instead of cracking a dirty remark and his reward was the warm look that Spock sent him and the gentle brush of a fingertip across his temple, creating the tiniest wave of warmth, like a mental kiss to heal all of his wounds. Once they were finally clean Jim took the opportunity to lay his head on Spock abdomen and simply listening to the sound of his love's heart, faster than any human's could ever been and more beautiful than any music that any symphony could ever produce.

And, although he was at a loath to break up the beautiful silence of what could only be called the afterglow, after a few minutes of he found that there was one question that just wouldn't leave him and so he propped his head up onto Spock's abdomen and met those still slightly sex dazed brown eyes and he said,

"If you don't mind me asking, how did you get work up the courage to tell me your feelings? Cause despite the fact that it makes me sound like a wuss, and that I will deny this to my last dying breath if it is ever brought up in front of other people, I was so firmly in denial that I likely couldn't have pulled it off at all, much less with as much certainty as you did."

In response to that Spock smiled once, a tiny upturn of his mouth that Jim translated as an 'I'm amused with you, you illogical human' smile before he face became more serious as he responded quietly, but still warmly,

"Your elder self and I had a discussion when I went to assuage his health, and he made a very persuasive argument. Despite its emotional content it was a...strangely logical conversation."

At the slight puzzlement in Spock's voice that Jim imagined was born by the fact that there was a James T. Kirk that could be logical (it was a weird thought for him too, but he figured he'd have some time to grow into it) Jim felt a wave of what could only be called tenderness wash over him (an yeah, so he was a marshmallow; and strangely ok with it). However he was a little bit wary of trying to speak with that emotion in his voice (marshmallow was fine; broadcasting it not so much) he infused some humour into his voice as he reply lightly, but still heartfelt,

"High praise! If I didn't know your heart belonged to me I might be jealous. But since I do, I guess I just owe him a lot then, huh?"

And a that, Spock sent him the warmest, most gentle look he'd ever seen emanate from those beautiful eyes before he responded in a tone so tender that he clearly wasn't sharing Jim's problem with broadcasting his inner marshmallow,

"We both owe him a great deal, t'hy'la."

At that Jim could do nothing more than burrow his head into the warm skin of Spock's abdomen and rub his check gently it in a soothing motion, before simply laying still and squeezing his arms tightly around him in that "I want to crawl into your skin and stay there" hug that he'd wanted to give him for so long.

After an eternity of perfection that was punctuated by nothing more than the soft sounds of their breaths Jim felt Spock shift under him for a moment before he said,

"Jim."

And his voice quiet and in response Jim turned and moved his still partially post sex fogged head up from Spock's abdomen to his chest before he lethargically replied,

"Yeah?"

In response to his half mumbled question Spock hesitated for a second, clearing warring with something internally before he continued, a cautious puzzlement to his voice,

"Your elder self said something to me before he departed to new Vulcan that I did not understand, but I believe that it might hold meaning for you."

Jim took a moment to try and clear the fog from his mind to figure out what Spock was referring to, and after a few times he finally remembered that secret message in the transporter room (hey, it had been the most mind blowing sex of his life; and coming from him that was saying something). However despite the fact that he remembered the when of the occurrence, the what of the occurrence was a complete question mark to him and since trying to figure it out sounded like work (not something he really wanted to do at this moment) he simply asked,

"Shoot and I'll see if I can help you."

At that Spock became visibly cautious and even more hesitant (and despite the sheer bliss that he was languishing he was starting to feel a sense of trepidation crawl up his spine) before Spock finally said quietly,

"He said _you are the one who will listen_."

And it took him only a second to remember the origin of those words, whispered to him in a cave only a few hours ago (had it only been that short of a time?) and when he did Jim felt every cell in his body freeze with panic and an overwhelming wave of sickness rose over him (he was never wrong those kind of feelings and although it had always served him well in the past, at this moment he absolutely hated it) and before he had time to even take a breath through his suddenly empty lungs Spock continued,

"Was I correct in assuming that it means something to you?"

It took him a moment to respond (how could it not, when there didn't seem to be any air in his lungs; in the whole room even) but after a few deep breaths (that were largely ineffective) he finally managed to whisper out, his voice weaker than it had ever been,

"Yeah, the old man mentioned it to me while we were on the planet."

Perhaps it was sick, weak (scarred) the tone in his voice that tipped Spock off that he'd been blindly lead into very serious territory or maybe Jim was broadcasting it across their bond (and he imaged that he was; it was simply too much pain and panic to keep contained within his skin) but Spock definitely picked up on the fact as he laid one of his hands gently on Jim's arm in an attempt to sooth as he replied quietly,

"I can see that it bothers you. We do not have to speak of it if you do not want to."

At that Jim had to stop for a minute and so he tried to push down his panic and his fear that screamed at him to be a coward at take the out that Spock had given him because it was simply overwhelming and it was drowning out every other though in his mind. Once he could finally think straight again he took a moment to consider his options, which as far as he could see were pretty clean cut. He could keep quiet and hope that it didn't blow up in his face (not all that likely with their new mind link) or he could pull off the bandage and hope that it didn't drive Spock away (not all that likely either, despite what the old man had said; although he had been right up until now).

Considering the fact that both of his options pretty much sucked it mostly came down to how he felt about Spock, which actually made his dilemma pretty much non-existent. The simple fact was that he loved Spock too much to lie to him (even about this) so although almost every cell in his body was sick at the thought of having to say it aloud he finally said quietly,

"I definitely don't want to talk about it, but I'm going to because it's something you deserve to know. And I guess it's a quick way to test if you'll ever leave me."

And he tried to inject a bit of humour into his voice to disguise some of the sickness in his voice, but by the look that crossed Spock's face Jim figured that he failed miserably. Spock confirmed that particular suspicion by saying quietly and with the slightest hint of gentle reproach,

"T'hy'la..."

"Sorry. Bad joke, I know. Laughter being the best medicine and all that bullshit," Jim replied quietly and then he continued before Spock could get him off the subject and make him lose his nerve.

"But if I'm going to get this out I'm going to need you to just sit and listen and then afterwards you can have your say. Alright?"

At that Spock nodded once and so Jim took another couple of deep breaths and then forced himself to look at Spock before he began quietly,

"When I was a kid my mother sent me and my older brother, Sam off planet for a while to live with our aunt and uncle. It was right after Frank – my stepfather – had finally cleared out and I guess she felt that she couldn't leave us alone at home, which was kind of ironic because we'd pretty much been alone with Frank, but whatever."

He stopped himself at that, because he could feel himself slipping back into that nasty hatred that he still kept for that bastard Frank and although that was one of the skeletons in his closet it wasn't the one he was trying to address at the moment. Spock moved to take one his hands in his own; the only indication that he'd acknowledged that Jim was having trouble and Jim was exceedingly grateful that he was being true to his promise and remaining silent (because this wasn't even the hard part yet) and so he took a moment to calm himself before he continued,

"For a while it was great. My aunt and uncle were awesome and they treated us like their own kids and Sam and I loved them. And it wasn't even major stuff either; just that they'd go out with us and explore or that we'd all sit down at the same table for meals, because we'd never really had that with dad dead and mom in space all the time. But since all good things come to an end it had to as well, and it did with a bang."

Now it got harder, as the pain of losing them still echoed within him, but then Spock squeezed his hand once in support and the feeling cleared back to a manageable level and so Jim squeezed back once in gratitude and continued,

"The crops all died at once, just stricken down by some obscure fungus that no one could even pronounce, but Sam and I were just kids so we didn't really get how that affected us. However after a few weeks without food it had been made pretty clear to us. My aunt and uncle tried to ration enough for all of us but there just wasn't enough to go around and everyone was pretty much starving."

At that he stopped for a second to see if Spock was catching what he was alluding to and at the look in his lover's eyes he figured he was pretty close, but since he still wasn't anywhere near the heart of the situation he forced himself to continue,

"And there was the revolution and when it was over Sam and I were brought to one part of town while my aunt and uncle were told to stay in their home. They said it was for safety; that they were splitting up the colony so that they could distribute the food better and I guess in retrospect that wasn't really a lie, because they definitely split up the food differently after that."

At that Spock had clearly twigged in to what he was alluding to as he broke his promise of silence to whisper quietly, and with a sizable amount of shock in his voice,

"You were a resident of Tarsus IV."

Jim nodded once in affirmation before he continued, the pain and guilt (rationally he knew it wasn't his fault but emotions were just so tricky that way) he still felt over the situation clear in his voice,

"They kept us away from the other half of the colony; we didn't find out until weeks later what he'd done. When we asked they just kept saying that everything was ok and we believed them because they were supposed to be the good guys. I should have pushed harder, I know I should have, but I was just a little kid and it was right around then that Sam got sick and so I had to devote all my attention to him."

This time he stopped for a moment longer to take a shaky breath, because for him the horror of Tarsus IV had never been the starvation, or the death of his family or the riot after they had figure out what Kodos had done (although they had definitely all been bad), it had always been what had happened with Kodos and it was that which he feared would be the thing to drive Spock away (how could it not?). But he'd come this far and so he directed his gaze towards his feet because although he couldn't stop now he definitely couldn't do this while he was looking at Spock and he continued, the words coming out faster and slick and painful,

"You've got to understand that we were all desperate; we were so hungry and Sam was all I had because they wouldn't let us see or aunt and uncle and so I had to save him. But there wasn't any food and there wasn't any medicine; the only person who had any of either was...Kodos,"

The name was like a knife being dragged up his throat and at it he choked for a second. He saw Spock move forward to touch him in his peripheral vision and at the movement he raised his hands to wave him off (he wasn't sure if he could deal with any touch right now, even one as beloved as Spock's) before he forced himself to continue, praying that the old man was right with every fibre of his being as he did.

"I was a smart kid and Kodos had always liked that about me; he liked people with potential, thought they were important. It's probably why I'm alive today, although at the time all I knew was that he liked me and so I figured he might give me some medicine for Sam. And so I asked him and then I found out that my brain wasn't the only thing that Kodos liked about me."

And this time he did stop, couldn't stop, because if he did he'd never finish and so he continued even faster (otherwise it would simply clog in his throat and he'd never be able to get it out) as he saw Spock's hands begin to constrict around his knees as he realised where Jim was going with this,

"He told me that if I did that one little thing for him he'd give me the medicine and I could save Sam and when I tried to pull back he told me if I left I'd be responsible for killing my brother. So I stayed because I needed my brother and afterwards I cleaned myself up and gave the medicine to Sam and he got better. And then a week later word got out of what Kodos had done and the riots started and by the time Starfleet had gotten there I had convinced myself it had never happened."

After he finished he hung his head further down as he waited for Spock to yell at him, or worse, to leave when he realised just how broken Jim was really was. For a moment there was nothing but silence and for that moment Jim let himself start to believe that James had been right and that Spock wouldn't just be the one who listened but also the one who still accepted him despite it. However he felt his hope plummet sharply as a wave of rage, more potent and dark than anything that he'd ever felt before surged across their bond (that he imaged that he wouldn't have for much longer). At that he wrapped his arms around himself to try and dispel the terrible cold that had been prompted by the fact that Spock was angry at him (and that James had been wrong; that it had apparently only worked for James because he wasn't as fucked up as Jim was; that hurt impossibly too) and he found himself blurting out, before Spock could break his heart,

"I'm so sorry for bringing you into this and I totally understand that you want out now that you know. I'm sure they're some way to break bond thing and I'm so sorry..."

However his frantic apologies were cut off as Spock's hands suddenly grabbed his shoulders, his grip tighter than bars of iron and when he felt Spock's fingers dig into his flesh, nearly hard enough to bruise he forced himself to meet Spock eyes and the emotion there almost scaled him with its intensity.

"Explain why you are apologising to me,"

Spock demanded, his voice dangerous and more emotion filled than Jim had ever heard it. It was still controlled, but it was a furious kind of control that sliced through the silence of the room and threaten to filet him here he sat (although with his heart already breaking he wasn't sure if he'd even feel the pain) and at the tone Jim couldn't help but blurt out,

"You're angry with me and I get it, really. I mean, I tied you to me without telling you all the facts and that was a shitty thing of me to do, so I'm sorry."

He might have continued his explanation in an effort to make Spock just how sorry he was; to make him realise that they could just forget it and break the bond and be friends again (and although the pain of that thought was excruciating it beat the impossible agony that he knew would come with losing Spock entirely) however he was stopped abruptly as Spock shook him once by his shoulders, hard before he replied, voice still dangerous,

"Of course I am angry, but I am not angry with you. My anger is directed towards that...monster that took advantage of you and harmed you when you were too young to protect yourself. The only reason I can imagine feeling angry at you for in this situation is because you believed that my anger was directed at you, however you are _Jim_ and I love you and so I forgive you for your what I believe was an unintended insult towards my feelings for you."

There was a moment of silence after Spock spoke; there had to be for the weight of what he'd said to set in and once it had Jim heard himself say, almost without his conscious control,

"You're not mad at me."

And his voice tinged with the both the disbelief and the impossible hope that were prompted by the thought, because he so desperately wanted to believe, but couldn't completely as he could still feel that terrible anger and his doubts were still trying to get the best of him. At that Spock's grip gentled, although he still did not release him and his voice was still impossibly intense (nearly as intense as the fire that had sprung up in those beautiful too human eyes) and he replied,

"No. I am however fighting -largely unsuccessfully, I might add- the urge to inquire the location of that man so that I can rip his limbs off slowly for touching you and torture him until he screamed for mercy that I would not give. I can understand if you are angry at me for my loss of control."

"Kodos is dead. And fuck your control."

Jim said, and now his voiced was filled with the sheer sense of wonder that he felt at the thought of Spock; his (and wasn't that the true miracle) pacifist and logical Vulcan being so enraged on his behalf that he'd offer (insist really) such a thing. However at that he felt a strange kind of peace wash over him as he realised that so long as he had this; Spock's support and love (and his protective instincts apparently, which were surprisingly hot) he didn't need revenge on Kodos. He didn't need Spock to be the guy who got up on his white charger for him (although the fact that he was willing to do so was impossibly perfect in a way that Jim couldn't even describe), because Spock gave him everything he needed just by staying on the ground with him and loving the parts of him that even Jim had problems with sometimes. And so it was almost a relief to bring his arms up to gently wrap around Spock's and say,

"And even if he wasn't dead I wouldn't want you to kill him. Killing him wouldn't be worth losing you; nothing is worth losing you."

And he was almost shocked at how much he meant it because it was the truth and it was miraculous (he'd hated Kodos so powerfully that he'd feared that he'd never be able to find a feeling that could compete and so to realize that he been wrong was incredibly freeing). At his statement he felt Spock's grip gentle further and then he felt the warmth of Spock's love trickle down their bond towards him until it had seeped into his every pore at it was at that; that impossible warmth that he finally, finally let himself believe; in Spock and what they'd created together and perhaps mostly importantly, in himself and that he could really do this; that he was worth trying to do this. It was almost like loving Spock filled all the broken parts of him and cleaned as the unclean parts until he felt, for the first time in his life, truly whole; like it was finally all as it should be.

After a moment where he simply basked in the feeling he felt Spock start to pulling him towards him and Jim allowed the motion, nestling his head in Spock's shoulder as he was suddenly exhausted by the impossible release of emotion he'd endured riding the emotional rollercoaster that he'd just been on. Once he was comfortably positioned Spock said quietly,

"If it makes you feel better t'hy'la I will promise not to kill him, if he was found to be alive. However in return-as for me to promise such a thing goes against my baser instincts- I ask that you promise that if you ever find yourself blaming yourself for that monster's actions that you will come to me so that I can assure you of just how perfect you are, in the hopes that one day you will accept it as the truth."

At that Jim felt himself smile, because although he knew his demons simply hadn't just disappeared and that he likely would end up taking up Spock on that offer (in its most serious form) he finally felt like one day it really was going to be alright (he guessed he really did owe the old guy a whole hell of a lot, but for the life of him he couldn't think of anything to give him in thanks; he'd already brought him to his Spock and he couldn't imagine anything better than that). And it was at that; the realization that for once he could look into his future and see something bright ahead of him that his body sagged in relief so he finally let himself relax and in doing so their combined weights pushed them down until they were lying on the bed. After a few seconds where they got themselves comfortable (cuddling was definitely going to be something he added it to his new list of 'favourite things to do in bed with Spock') Jim looked up at his lover and asked lazily, with a hint of cheek,

"What type of reassurance are we talking about here? Because if it's the kind I'm hoping it is than I'm going to need a whole lot of it. Probably on a daily basis; hourly even."

"I believe that can be arranged," Spock said tenderly in response before he brought one of his hands up to brush a lock of hair off of Jim's forehead (and at the wave of warmth that gesture instilled in him Jim decided that yeah, cuddling was definitely going way up near the top on that list; sex was still first though) before he was pulled out of his thoughts Spock continued quietly and with a hint of amusement,

"Sleep, t'hy'la. I will be here when you awaken and we can practice reassuring you then."

And so, wrapped up in the warmth and security of his love's embrace, Jim simply did as he was told (obedience was, in his opinion, completely depended on the type of order) as he finally closed his eyes and slept. And his last thought, the second before he finally drifted away (but for the first time didn't worry because, he knew he wouldn't be alone when he woke up), was that he'd been wrong; this was definitely the afterglow.

* * *

After Spock was sure that Jim was asleep he got up out of the bed (their bed) slowly, as not to wake him. He was at a loath to leave the exceedingly pleasant warmth of his new miraculous reality, but there was something he needed to do before he could allow himself to sleep. Despite his sheer, uncompromising fury that seemed to seep through his pores, he had promised Jim that he would not kill Kodos, if the monster was not dead already and he would not betray his t'hy'la's trust by breaking his promise. Still, he was also unable to stand by and do nothing after what that...abomination had done to his t'hy'la when he was too young to protect himself. However there was a solution, as when one was raised in a society that did not believe in lying, one tended to develop an in depth knowledge of the intricacies of loop holes and it was that knowledge that Spock intended to make use of now.

So, he quietly moved left the bed and moved to the computer terminal and silently turned it on, making sure not to wake the man who still slumbered. Finding out if Kodos still lived could take months or even years if he tried to do it using the usual methods, but thankfully he had a faster resource. It only took him a moment to compose a very discreet message (and very coded message; he doubted Starfleet would approve of his intent) and send it to the Elder Sepak of Vulcan and his new consort and a few moments after that to ensure that Jim would not be able to trace the location on the computer (a logical precaution; he was dealing with the man who had hacked the Kobyashi Maru).

Thankfully he didn't have long to wait for a response (perhaps pon farr was over, although he imagined it was more likely that he had simply caught them in a moment of 'down time') as ten point three minutes later a short missive appeared on the screen and Spock scanned it once before deleting it are erasing all traces of it, pleased with the response. He then shut the computer down and returned to the bed, shifting quietly to lay beside Jim, who (without waking) curled his body into Spock's and buried his head in the crook of his neck. In response Spock wrapped his arms around his precious t'hy'la and before he finally surrendered to slumber he whispered,

"I love you."

And as he did he smiled, once into the darkness. And it was there, as he lay in the arms of his t'hy'la he knew perfection for the first time, and so there would be no nightmares for Jim while they had this; of that he would make sure of.

Three months later, the crew would receive the news that the Shakespearian troupe that had been scheduled to perform on the ship had been forced to cancel as result of the fact that their lead actor, a man named Anton Karidian had died a week earlier in a tragic transporter malfunction. The incident, which had left his body too mutilated for facial identification, would be written off a tragic computer malfunction and so no one would ever make the connection between it and the inconspicuous older human male with hazel eyes and greying golden hair who had been visiting the ship at the time. And later in private, when Jim expressed his sorrow at the tragedy of such an accident, Spock's response would be to nod gently in agreement and then quietly offer another suggestion for a theatre group that could take their place (it was, after all only logical). And that night before he fell asleep Spock would cradle his slumbering t'hy'la in his arms in an effort to keep him safe from the world and for once be completely thankful of his mixed heritage.

Vulcan's did not lie and they did not believe in violence; these were both truths. But there was also nothing that they would not do to make sure that no harm came to the ones they loved and despite his human blood Spock was, in many respects, an excellent Vulcan.

* * *

A/N:

Oh my god, that was long! And almost half of it was smut (I kind of surprised myself there a little bit!) So, that was my take on protective Spock (for anyone not familiar with TOS Anton Karidian was Kodos-he wasn't dead he was just hiding under an assumed name) and the 'inconspicuous older human male with hazel eyes and greying golden hair' was totally James (because Spock Prime couldn't do it; Spock did promise _he_ wouldn't kill him).

So, ladies and gentlemen that concludes the New-Jim/New-Spock portion of my humble little fic which means we're almost at the end. Next (and likely last) is the reunion, however I must warn everyone that it definitely won't be up before finals (I had this one almost all finished but the next one I've barely written at all). However, please feel free to leave a review or some constructive criticism (because I just like them, ok!).

Also, I feel that I should thank triciarn for her review, as it was the one that gave me the idea to write a scene involving Spock hearing about Tarsus, which I think turned out to be a great way to end the chapter. So um, thanks.

Second A/N:

So, I had orignally hoped to get the next chapter up by Christmas, but real life decided to get in the way of that (in the form of getting T-boned by a 78 year old woman; who is alright, thank god). Car accidents, as it turns out take up a lot of time and so I've been a bit busy to write, but I'm starting up again so the next chapter should be up soon (ish; university sucks). Thanks to everyone who's still stuck around and I promise to try and make it as good (and hot) as possible.


	9. Finding Home

Part Eight – Finding Home (Sometimes, The Destination is Just as Important as the Journey)

Disclaimer: Star Trek and the boys belong to Gene Roddenberry, who I am not. I am only borrowing them with the greatest respect, and promise to return them in (mostly) pristine condition.

* * *

**Spock:**_ Interesting. Where would you estimate we belong, Miss Keeler?  
_**Edith Keeler:**_ You? At his side, as if you've always been there and always will._

-Edith Keeler and Spock (The City on the Edge of Forever)

"_There are some things worth dying for." _-- **Kirk** (Errand of Mercy)

* * *

It was not Vulcan.

It was his first thought when he opened his eyes after the light of the transporter has faded and it surprised him to find that he was saddened by the thought. The heat was right; sweltering and too hot for any human to truly be comfortable, but the buildings were wrong; their shape similar to the original but different, as if the Vulcan's that were rebuilding it were unaware of what should be preserved and what was better left forgotten. Although, in the interest of fairness, he supposed he could not fault them for that; Vulcan's might not have been known for their proficiency in dealing with emotions but they were not without them; in many ways their emotions were deeper than most humans, simply repressed and layered under centuries of logic and the combination likely made an already almost impossible situation even worse.

But it was not the fact that it was not identical that saddened him, but rather that it didn't not feel like Vulcan had; didn't feel like home and it was that realization that truly surprised him. He had only every consciously considered one place his home; his sleek lady where he and his t'hy'la had traversed the stars and carved their names into the history of man; exploits straight from a bed time story told to children only real and so it surprised him to realize that perhaps he'd had another home before. Vulcan had not been his choice; too hot and dry and quiet (a stifling combination) for his liking, but he'd loved Spock to distraction and Spock had loved Vulcan and because of that it had been any easy choice and so anything he'd sacrificed had been drowned out by the light that had been in his lover's eyes when he had told him his decision.

And so they had settled there and it had still been too hot and dry and quiet for his liking but he'd been happier than he'd ever been before; happier than he'd ever thought he'd be at getting older and losing his prime and somehow, without his conscious awareness it had apparently become home. The thought had not occurred to him when he'd lost everything in the Nexus; nothing had been real there, not the places, not the people; not even he'd been real when he'd been there and so it had made sense that there had also been no feeling there; no love, no loss (beyond Spock, but he'd always defied the odds). Now however, as he stood on this planet; this hauntingly incomplete replica of a place he'd once lived; once loved he felt the loss of the home he'd never realized he'd had and so, despite the flames that burned impossibly in him he took a minute to mourn as the unexpected sadness nearly overwhelmed him.

As such, he was almost thankful that it was at that moment that the priestess decided to descend down the stairs to meet him, as it gave him an excellent outlet to channel his thoughts. She was lovely; statuesque and yet also somehow petite and fragile, her eyes dark like her hair, her cheekbones and ears pointed in the nature of her race. She was the picture of untouchable perfection; the woman that all woman try to emulate and that all men desire (even him in his youth) and yet, for a moment his sadness was drowned out by anger; irrational and sharp because this woman looked so much like T'Pring that he had to clench his hands to stop himself from lunging at her. The memories of that time; that terrible, horrible time where his closest friend, the man he'd loved (even though he hadn't known then) had killed him (thrown him aside, and hadn't that hurt so much more than the bruises around his neck that he'd refused to let Bones fix) over a woman were only heightened by the heat of flames of pon farr, which screamed their displeasure at the thought of any woman who looked so much like T'Pring anywhere near Spock.

She moved gracefully down the steps, her movements neither slow nor rushed and James took that time to compose himself; to suppress and channel his deeply irrational anger away from the woman whose only fault that he knew of was that she had the poor luck of resembling a terrible bitch from his past. Thankfully by the time she had reached him he had managed to get his anger under control (impressive, considering how frayed his control was, and how much he really still wanted to smack that freaking T'Bitch around for putting Spock through that) and so he was able to great her with a facsimile (look, he was still so freaking horny he could barely stand, alright) of a smile when she finally reached him.

"Mr. Kirk," she said, her voice even and calm, but not cool and he was nearly absurdly grateful for the distinction (T'Pring had been nothing but ice, sharp and cold over logic that had pitted his best friend against him), "I am T'Para, the priestess of this temple. Your Captain, also a Kirk I believe, indicated that you would be arriving, although he did not elaborate on many of the details of the situation."

There was a question in her tone; barely noticeable to those who had not studied the emotional nuances of Vulcan's but since had practically made and art form out of it (he'd had the loveliest canvas) it was almost glaringly obvious to him. After a second where he decided simply how much of 'the situation' he really wanted to share with her he settled on,

"We're...related, which is why he did me a favour and ferried me here. As for the details of the situation, I am sure that you have already figured most of them out by yourself."

"I had inferred." She answered calmly and then her tone changed, became just the tiniest bit pointed but he picked up on it all the same as she continued, "May I enquire as to why you waited so long to arrive?"

There was no accusation in her voice, which was not a surprise (Vulcan, after all), but there was the slightest amount in her eyes which, instead of promoting anger at the implication that he would have left Spock alone to deal with this, he was almost comforted by it. It was nice to know that Spock had people here who cared whether he lived or died; to know that the feeling that his lover had inspired in the people was strong enough to make even a Vulcan mention (in a roundabout sort of way) the exceedingly taboo subject of pon farr. Still, it took him a moment before he could find his voice to answer, because truthfully there was no elegant way to explain why; no way to make the truth even seem believable (and wasn't that just the story of his life?).

He finally settled on a deeply abridged version of the truth as he said, his voice solemn and serious so that she would hear the sincerity of the feeling behind them,

"I've been," pretty much dead, lost in a freaking vortex that made hell look like a picnic, "incapacitated for a long while and was only recently made aware of his condition. I would not have left him alone for this if I'd had a choice."

He imagined that it had gotten through when she nodded once in response and the accusation drained from her eyes and his suspicious were verified when she said, a second later, her voice soft, "I apologize for my impudence; Elder Sepak is a much valued member of our society and his welfare is of upmost importance to us."

It took him second to work out just who the hell Sepak was (he wasn't exactly firing at full cognitive cylinders right now, but at least he'd had the forethought not to ask, because that would have been hell to explain) but once he did he couldn't quite hold in the smile that was prompted by that quiet, unassuming and oh so perfect defence of his t'hy'la. And so instead of an apology, for in his mind there was nothing to truly apologize for anyways, he simply smiled at her and replied gently,

"He's a much valued member of my life as well, so I understand."

Her mouth crinkled upwards the tiniest bit at that, a gesture that he knew would have been a full faced smile on any human, and although he needed no other proof than that to assure him that he had convinced her of his sincerity he was given it anyways when turned towards the temple and gestured for him to follow and said, "I will take you to him now, without wasting any more time. I understand the urgency of the situation."

There was a hint of pain in her voice this time, strong enough that he imagined it was noticeable to even those who did not have the experience reading Vulcan's that he did and because of that; the sheer strength of emotion present in a voice that likely had never known it before the destruction of Vulcan he stayed quiet for a moment and followed her, letting her decide on her own if she wished to continue. After a few minutes of silence and just when he had figured that she had decided against saying anymore she spoke, without turning around or slowing down, her voice painstakingly level,

"I was t'hy'la once. He was a teacher in Shikar who perished with Vulcan."

There was nothing truly he could stay to that, no words that he could offer that would provide any comfort. He knew that pain only too well and so he knew that it never truly went away, but because he could not say nothing at all he said, "I grieve with thee," quietly and infused all the feeling he had into the phrase.

She nodded in response, the gesture minuscule and likely unconscious before she continued, the tiniest amount of pride mixing with the sorrow in her voice, "He gave up his seat to save two of his students and I cannot regret that - he would not have been the man I loved if he had not. I am told his death was instantaneous, so he did not suffer."

Logic, he had always found was in some cases such a terribly inadequate and strangely human thing, and there was no better proof than of that than her quiet statement designed to rationalize her loss, which was clearly failing so miserably. He had done the same thing a million times throughout his career; had told himself that every crew member that he had lost had not been his fault and although there had been truth in his rational it had never truly helped. Love had been the only thing that every really had; the quiet, unassuming and supportive presence of his t'hy'la when he had needed a shoulder to lean on most, and since T'Para had lost that he endeavoured to provide some, even in the tiniest (and terribly inadequate, he knew but it was all he could give) way as he reached over and gently placed his hand on her shoulder before he replied, his voice rich with feeling, "But you are, and I am impossibly sorry for that."

"Thank you." She answered quietly and she halted her movement before accompanying her words with another small nod of her head. They stayed still for a moment as she let the weight of his hand rest there, before she resumed her movements and James discreetly removed his hand, letting it hang at his side where is suddenly felt so painfully empty. There were no more words as they moved through the hallways and James used the silence to mourn the loss of the people that he had never met and the people that he would never meet; the people that were so deeply missed by those who were left behind and to thank whatever powers that be that existed that he did not have to mourn his own t'hy'la again this way.

He was broken out of his thoughts by the sound of T'Para's voice as she stopped in front of an elegant stone door and said, "He is in this room." And she accompanied the words by gesturing smoothly towards the door with one hand, "I will leave you two alone until you have completed your business."

The man he had been in his youth might have found the dry tone that the young Vulcan woman used; might have made a joke about the tactfulness of the metaphor that she had used to describe what pretty much amounted to days of prolonged mind blowing sex, but the man that he was now; the man that had seen all the thing that he had and survived all the things that he had; the man who needed what was to come more than he needed oxygen simply nodded his head once in assent and said quietly,

"Thank you."

She nodded once in response, the gesture graceful and smooth before she turned and, true to her word left him alone in the hallway with nothing more than the flames that now roared higher than they and before at how close he finally was to getting what he needed and his thoughts and to keep him company.

This was not Vulcan; the buildings were wrong, the air was different and the aura of sadness that hung over the people (people that were so good at allowing no emotion to be expressed) made this place so different from the planet that he had once considered home.

But Spock was here, with nothing more than a beautifully engraved stone door and a slight feeling of anxiety keeping them apart where there had once been an entire universe. Spock was here and he wanted Jim; loved him still, despite all the years that he had been without him; had stayed true to Jim even when he knew that Jim wouldn't have begrudged him if he had found someone else, and so in the face of that, any anxiety that he had been feeling simply disappeared.

Spock was here, and so he was home.

He opened the door, stepped inside and locked the door behind him.

Black hair still straight through it dripped with sweat. Flushed green skin. Pointed ears.

Spock.

He was home.

* * *

A/N: No, this is not the end of this story, so please don't kill me. This little teaser snippet will most definitely be followed by a blow by blow (yes, there is a pun in there) account of exactly what goes on after James closes the door, but probably not until the end of April/the middle of May. School has been an absolute bear since Christmas which has left me with almost no time to write and since I really want to do the reunion between James and Spock justice I need time, I've been forced to wait until after school ends for the summer, where I'll have nothing to concentrate on but this. So, let me both say thank you to everyone who has reviewed with that question for actually caring about the story enough to want to see it through, as well as sorry for having to make you wait even longer. That said, as always, enjoy and review.


	10. Paradise Found

Part 9 – Paradise Found (The Reason We Keep Chasing Rainbows)

Disclaimer: Star Trek and the boys belong to Gene Roddenberry, who I am not. I am only borrowing them with the greatest respect, and promise to return them in (mostly) pristine condition.

"_... The things love can drive a man to -- the ecstasies, the miseries, the broken rules, the desperate chances, the glorious failures and the glorious victories."_-- **McCoy** (Requiem for Methuselah)

"_Oh no! Frodo... Mr. Frodo, wake up... Don't leave me here alone. Don't go where I can't follow... Wake up."_ – **Samwise Gamgee**, The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King

The room was almost painfully hot; the heat so oppressive that sweat dripped into his eyes, nearly blurring his vision. But not even total blindness would have stopped him from taking in the sight of the form that was curled in the corner, skin flushed green with heat that had nothing to do with the environment, pupils blown wide, so far gone that he had yet to notice James's presence.

Spock.

Impossibly beautiful because he was real; real and _his_, not a young doppelganger that belonged to a younger version of himself or a ghost born from the Nexus but _his_. It was the sight that he'd been waiting for since forever; since he'd fallen out of time and found himself in the Nexus, since he'd wished his way back into a world not his own by following his heart. Time, such a relative quality, made to seem so much longer by his longing to see this man, even in a place where time had not existed, increased again by the fires of pon farr that made hours of separation seem like an eternity.

But now that was over; now that impossible wait was over, because he was here, and almost more importantly, because Spock was here with him, alive and so much beloved. There was a thrum of anticipation under his skin, a familiar friend that had accompanied him on all of his greatest adventures and he bathed in it now, let it simmer and grow until he could stand it no longer, until he could resist no longer.

It was a short distance across the room, no more than six steps but even that seemed an almost impossible distance as there was still a part of him that insisted that this was not real. That this was simply a fantastic fantasy concocted by the Nexus and that the first brush of his flesh against Spock's would be lifeless, that no connection would occur and it would reveal this as the terrible joke he feared it to be. But by then he was there, no more than a hairbreadths away from his t'hy'la and nothing, no fear could keep him from stretching out a single (trembling) hand and stroking the flesh of Spock's flushed cheek.

At the touch Spock seemed to rouse himself from his trance, his big brown human eyes blinking open to meet James own hazel ones, but James was too overwhelmed by the connection; the bond that had been so painfully absent in the Nexus to even notice what lay in those brown depths. Then there had been nothing; a painful absence of sound and feeling but now it was there; the maelstrom of Spock's feelings, usually so repressed and organized, now made wild by pon farr rushed at him and through him, breathing life back into the bond that had been so frayed by his absence in the Nexus. It was like being filled with light, the headiest of highs, better than anything that Bones's highly impressively liquor cabinet had ever boasted. It was like coming home and he bathed in the feeling, soaked up the sheer aura of _Spock_, drank it down like a man dying of thirst.

"James," Spock whispered, after a moment and James opened the eyes he wasn't even aware he had closed to meet Spock's. They were nothing but flame and completely luminous, his voice so quiet it was hardly even a breath but still conveying so much feeling and his heart simply rolled, because yeah, he'd missed being James alright.

"I found you. I knew I would. They wanted to put my katra in the ark but I refused because I knew, against all logic I'd find you. And here you are," Spock continued and for a moment he knew nothing but the pleasure of his t'hy'la's presence until Spock's words actually registered and his heart nearly shattered when he realised that the terrifying theory that he had concocted on the Enterprise had been correct. For a moment he was so choked up, so overwhelmed that he couldn't force any sound out of his throat and when he finally did his words were rough with the sheer emotion that was seeping out of his pores.

"Here we both are, t'hy'la," And then he simply bent his head down and pressed his lips to Spock's because at this moment they were both alive and they both needed this (at this point he was relatively sure he needed this to survive as much - if not more - than Spock did) and so explanations could definitely come later.

It was not a gentle kiss; their desperation and heat made gentle an impossibility; made them unable to even desire a soft embrace. Instead it was violent and needy as teeth, tongues and lips crashed together to duel and fight and create an inferno hotter than anything he'd ever felt. It was not even tenderness, as although the feeling existed in his heart it had no place here; now was for claiming, connecting desperately after so long apart and claiming back what time and fate had taken from them as the flames screamed their satisfaction under their skin.

This was proving that they were alive, the grasp of hands on flesh so hard that bruises had no choice but to follow, but the visceral pleasure of the pain only made the experience sweeter, more real. The thrum of heart beats, alien to each other and never designed to sync, beating as one, racing with a familiar feeling, lust and love and _fire_ tangling together to create the potent cocktail that was pon farr. The flames of pon farr raged, an endless scream, made impossibly potent by their contact raged even higher as Spock stood, his movement fluid and nearly serpentine, his hands going to James's hips with a grip that was painful as he pulled them together with a force that would have knocked the breath from his lungs if it hadn't already had been stolen by the force of Spock's kiss.

The pain of their embrace made him gasp, a sound that Spock promptly swallowed, penetrated his mouth with tongue as is to chase the sound, the gesture possessive and all consuming. And although masochism wasn't his thing (although he could see how his mission track record could mislead someone on that point) the pain made this somehow sweeter, more real, but this wasn't about pain (not that there wasn't some pain, because there was; but after all this time without feeling it couldn't help but hurt so _good_).

He had a theory about pon farr and about what Vulcan women never truly understood about it; why they were so reluctant and disgusted. What they didn't get (and what he'd quickly learned) was that it wasn't about sex; not even truly about dominance or claiming (although they definitely played a part), but rather that it was deeper than that, deeper even than ownership. It was belonging; not about taking but about giving; submitting yourself to someone because you trusted them enough to give them your (exquisitely fragile) heart without fear of them breaking it. And it was this; this impossible emotion (this simple feeling, a whispered remembrance so treasured, and the soft press of flesh when the world was going to end) that they could not understand and so pon farr became a time of shame and self hatred and disgust.

As Spock slammed him against the wall and pressed their lips together again, so forcefully that their teeth clinked together and that his jaw ached, James decided they were all flaming morons if they couldn't see how beautiful this was.

Then there was simply no thought, no room for thought as Spock growled, "submit, t'hy'la" into his mouth, the sound more animal than human (or half human, as the case may be), not request but a command. Submission was not in his nature; he was, no matter his title, a Starfleet Captain and as such the need to have control was nearly as deeply ingrained in him as it was in Spock. When he'd lost control people had died, a darkly efficient teacher of a terrible lesson, and so to relinquish that control to anyone was a terrifying thought. But here it was different, here floating with Spock among the inferno that the fires of pon farr created he knew his place and so he let himself go slack, let his weight fall into the arms of his mate and tilted his neck upwards, an offering and an acknowledgement of his submission.

Spock wasted no time in laying his claim, taking possession of James's exposed throat with teeth and tongue, the former biting marks of ownership into his flesh, the latter soothing the darkened skin, bringing pleasure to the sharp sting of pain, an addictive combination. Then hands moved from his hips to his back and the sound of seems rending filled the air as fabric, hundreds of years old was no match for Vulcan strength, ripping like butter under the unstoppable force of pon farr. The shirt he had worn for nearly an eternity was thrown from his body and he did not mourn it's destruction, instead rejoiced in it and reached trembling hands up to the clasp of Spock's robe, only to have them pulled away and secured above his head in an iron grasp as Spock leaned in, a predatory look on his face.

Submit, he remembered as the flames in Spock's eyes grew brighter and so he forced his anticipation down and commanded his body to stay still with what was left of his much frayed (and truthfully not all that naturally bountiful) self control. Once Spock was satisfied that James was back on the same page as he was he loosened his hold and brought his hands to James's nipples, tweaking them roughly in a gesture designed to inflame and chide, making James gasp into Spock's neck. Then Spock's hands migrated down his chest, no longer as firm as it had been in his youth, but Spock appeared to have no complaints as short, broad nails nearly broke the skin as they slid over his flesh, leaving goosebumps and red marks in their wake. Then his hands reached the seam of James's regulation trousers, where they caressed the exposed flesh there for a second before they, without warning, plunged beneath them to grasp hold of the aching flesh beneath.

"Mine," Spock growled, voice low and eyes impossibly hot, and his hand pumped once from root to tip, already dripping with pre-ejaculate, then twice before he stopped, hand resting at the base of his shaft. "Mine."

It took him a moment to realize that Spock was waiting for something from him (the blood he needed to operate his brain was a bit otherwise occupied), but once he finally did, read the gleam that was in Spock's eyes he responded by thrusting his hips forward to allow for better access, and whispered into a pointed year, his voice rough from the heat and from his arousal, "Always yours; only yours."

Spock simply growled in response, pumping his cock once more before his hands moved to the seams of his pants and ripped them from his body, the dark fabric offering no more resistance than the shirt had, leaving him naked, burning under the heat of the Vulcan's eyes. His body was no longer firm, he knew; age had robbed him of that; his arms, chest, legs no longer as muscular, skin no longer smooth, hair no longer as thick and golden, but under the heat of Spock's glance he forgot those things. Those eyes saw him as t'hy'la; not only what he was now but what he had been and what he would become, those eyes saw him as perfection, and if he could have he would have lived in them, beauty that not even the Nexus had been able to recreate.

But he was not alone in his aging; time, which had been so kind to Spock before had finally caught up with him, leaving them not so disproportionate as they had once been. James, in their later years, had almost always felt extremely old beside Spock, whose biology had dictated that not only would Spock greatly outlive him, he would also appear virtually ageless in comparison to him. While his hair had greyed, Spock's had stayed stubbornly black; while his face had wrinkled, Spock's had stayed smooth; time had not weighed on his friend as it had him, and although they had never really spoken of it, he knew it had been something that had weighed on both their minds.

Now however the Nexus had evened out the playing field, a fact made even more obvious as Spock reached a hand up behind his own neck and graceful fingers tugged impatiently at the clasp hidden there. The movement made the robe, similar to that god awful terrycloth bathrobe like dress that he'd worn when they had traipsed around the past in an effort to save the whales, fall down to the floor in a single movement, leaving him gloriously bare, a feast for James's eyes. And feast he did, as Spock stood passive for a moment and allowed his eyes to devour him; took in how the greyness of his hair made him only more beautiful, the precious lines on his face that proved that he could laugh. Spock's body had always been slim, muscles not bunched like his once had been, but sleek and they were still now, although age had finally taken some of the iron from his frame; slim yes, but smoother where there had once been sharp edges. Magnificent and James couldn't help but think, without real ire at the unfairness, that although time had finally caught up with his friend, it had still been very kind to him.

Once he had looked his fill (or that Spock had let him look his fill), Spock set out to destroy him with his caresses, attacking the task with his famous Vulcan single mindedness and James could only tilt his head backwards and attempt to weather the storm that was their desire. There was no uncertainty in Spock's touch, no need to explore to find the spots that elicited the most pleasure. They had once mapped out each other's bodies with teeth and tongue and hands like they had the stars with their ship and so there was no hesitation, no mercy as Spock's hands moved to from erogenous zone to erogenous zone, blazing a trail designed to send him out of his mind.

The flesh of his neck was bitten, leaving a ring of bruises, a collar of possession that was soothed briefly with the softness of Spock's tongue. Then hands migrated to his nipples, squeezing them and tweaking them just how he liked it, rough and yet somehow tender, making him gasp and forget his promise of submission and raise his own arms in an attempt to return the favour. His hands were batted away however and the gesture was once again met was a steely gaze and so James's instead fisted his hands at his sides and commanded them not to move. The gesture seemed to satisfy Spock, as he resumed his movements, ignoring his weeping cock in favour of taking his testicles in his hands and rolling them, making him nearly sob at the pleasure, which increased impossibly as a hot Vulcan's mouth returned to his neck, nipping and sucking. And all the sensations were made impossibly more potent by the feeling of bare flesh on bare flesh, skin inhumanly hot pressing against his, sliding against his own sweaty skin, chest to chest, leg to leg, cock's kept apart by Vulcan hands on his biceps, half to build anticipation, half as a reminder of who was in control.

It was, he knew, what seemed like more patience than an outsider might have expected during pon farr, but James's knew better. This was not so much about prolonging the act or about his pleasure (though they were both added bonuses) but rather about marking his flesh, about carving Spock's possession of him into his body as he already was in his mind; an act that, to Vulcan's, was nearly as important as the actual act of sex. So restrained in nature, prising composure and control over all else, but in the near madness of pon farr they revelled in this ability to make their mate's (who were typically just as composed as they were) wear their marks as badges of ownership, burying control under their baser, primal instincts of possession, jealously and protectiveness that James's knew still existed, simmering under the veneer of their logic. This was writing the story of this; of Spock's possession and of their combined need, of _them_, in bruises and half moon crescent furrows, broken blood vessels and teeth marks onto his flesh.

However he could feel, through the bond and through Spock's movements that this phase was ending; that the madness, the need for penetration was quickly approaching and so it was no surprise to him when Spock grabbed his hips and turned him, moving his (not unsubstantial, he would admit) weight as if he was a rag doll. He found himself bourn down to the floor, positioned impatiently so that he was resting on all fours, angled so that his entrance was easily accessible. His knees protested the movement slightly, a reminder that he was not in possession of the youth he'd had the first time they had done this but he ignored it, pushed it away in order to focus on Spock and the sensations they were creating; the maddening spiral of pleasure crawling up his spine, a feeling familiar, like an old friend that had been greatly missed.

Then all thought was pretty much put on hold as Spock knelt behind him and in a single, smooth moment thrust two fingers into him and his mind was consumed by pleasure, accented by the burn as it had been a long time for him and he was tight. The fact seemed to please Spock, or perhaps it was simply the feeling of having his fingers encased in his heat (that Vulcan finger sensitivity rumour was completely true, and made for awesome fun) as Spock growled once, sound low in the back of his throat that went straight to James's cock before he started a near punishing rhythm, fucking him with his fingers; alternating between straight thrusts that nearly brushed his prostate but didn't, then scissoring motions on the withdrawal to stretch him even further.

The fingers disappeared for a second and James's couldn't help but make a sound, somewhere between a moan and a gasp in mourning, but the feeling was quickly replaced by a wave of sheer desire as he angled his head backwards and saw Spock, one hand holding a small bottle, other moving up and down his cock, slicking it in preparation. His mouth nearly watered at the sight; perfect, as it had always been, flushed with green blood and as hard as iron, pulsing before his eyes. The hand holding the (magnificent, in his opinion) cock moved quickly, no intention of putting on a show and James's felt through the bond how Spock's patience had finally run out, how the primal need for penetration had consumed his thoughts.

The other hand was clutching the little bottle as if he was likely to break it, which he supposed was quite possible as Vulcan strength was legendary and the bottle was tiny and ornate and, if the slickness on Spock's fingers was any indication, likely contained some type of Vulcan lube (he still had vivid memories at how dumbstruck he'd been the first time when Spock had pulled that out of a bedside table, and then, after seeing the look on James's face, had turned emerald green and given a three minute lecture on the logic of the product). He wasn't particularly sure where Spock had gotten it this time, although he imagined T'Para had likely left it, and he had a moment of whimsy imagining the lovely, proper Vulcan woman doing so. The thought must have travelled across their link because Spock suddenly growled his voice gravelly and fierce, "Be with _me_. You are _mine_." And his grip on James's hips became punishing, as he thrust his cock roughly into him, without warning, giving him no time to adjust as he began to pound into him with a violent desperation, the movement stealing his breath.

There was pain, not much because he had been well prepared, but the sheer force of the penetration made it impossible for it to be painless. However it was not really the pain that kept him quiet, stole his breath and silenced the gasp that had escaped him, making it nothing more than a breath of air. Rather it was the feeling of completion, of fullness, not just of the body but of the soul; coming home, he remembered thinking, a million years ago when he'd walked into this room, home and whole.

Then there was no room for thought, nothing but heat and feeling and _fire_ as the bond rushed opened and Spock rushed into his mind, like cascading waves of lava, scorching as he moved through him, pounding into his skull as he pounded into his body. The bond more screamed than sang, feelings and thoughts colliding, a litany of _mine, yes, t'hy'la, no one else, kill anyone who dared, lock you away from the rest of world, mine, tight, hot, take me, all of me, beautiful when you're gasping for me, submit, you are mine, erase all the others from your mind, t'hy'la, mine_. The onslaught was overwhelming, but incomplete; pon farr required two minds, communicating until they became one. And so, although it was a near impossibility, he grasped at his thoughts, weaved them into so sort of order and pushed them, as hard as he could at Spock through the link, the message hardly more than, _yes, yours, waited so long, missed you, love you, yours, please, t'hy'la, only yours_.

He knew he'd gotten through when the bond roared open again, drowned them both in their feelings, the sunshine like light of love twined with the overwhelming heat of lust to create a rainbow that sang, the bond finally healthy after so long and James's couldn't help but become lost in the feeling. He let it seep into his mind, fill up all the empty spaces in his mind, the ones that had been lonely and cold for so long in the Nexus, but now hummed with warmth and life.

Somewhere, in the depth of his mind where the bond was not so overwhelmed, he was distantly aware of Spock's thrusts into his body, strong and deep, angled just so that he touched his prostate on each one. Somewhere, he was aware of his own body, rhythmic contractions of his own passage around that perfect hardness inside him, of the gasps and moans that spilled from his lips, the fragmented phrases, filthy and desperate, pleading for "more of that cock, harder, splitting me open, so deep, fuck me until I carry your brand in my very cells, come on you bastard give it to me, make me yours."

Somewhere, he was aware of the fact that Spock had lost complete control and was now pounding into him, no finesse, simply overwhelming hunger. No longer just brushing against his prostate but ramming into it with each thrust, sending sheer white shockwaves of pleasure through James's that were amplified by the bond until they were nearly blinding. Somewhere he was aware that Spock was now gasping his name and nothing more, just "Jim, Jim, James, Jim," desperately, the sound so different from his typically so carefully modulated tone.

Somewhere, he was aware that he'd tilted his body slightly, allowed Spock to sink even deeper still, until he could practically feel him in his throat. And he felt it, the pinnacle of their orgasm, like an enormous wave, crashed into them like a wall, nothing but _light and t'hy'la, and love and home and finally_. Felt Spock spill himself into him as he came himself, painting the floor below him, the moment so in unison that it was simply a single release, rather than two separate ones.

Then his vision whitened out, overwhelmed by the sheer rightness of the moment, and he was aware of nothing.

Pon farr was all consuming, every single one of the body's senses taxed to their limit, and so it was understandable that under such stress his memory occasionally failed him. There were always things about it that he did not remember later; things that the sheer mental force of pon farr, the sheer, insane pleasure robbed from him when he finally came to himself afterwards. However there were also things that he could never forget, things that were burned into his mind so bright that they glowed, precious jewels of memory that he treasured above all else.

Spock, still hard after the first mind-blowing orgasm, not even bothering to remove himself from James's body before he resumed his thrusts. Simply arranging him so that he could rest his head, still fogged, on his folded arms before he once again began to pound into him, thrusts more controlled this time, a teasing rhythm designed to drive him insane. Thrusts that alternated from shallow and teasing to deep and all consuming, teasingly brushing against his prostate until he was unable to do anything more than plead for more. Then hands, inhumanly hot, encircled his cock, slowly moved up and down his shaft, thumbs fucking teasing the head until he came, painted those fingers white. Then he took them into his own mouth, sucked them clean of his cum like he would the cock that was still moving so slowly inside of him and made Spock gasp and pound into him until he came again, filling him to the brim before slumping over James's back like a warm blanket.

Those same hot hands, strong but surprisingly gentle in his hair as he relaxed his throat and let Spock fuck his mouth, little jerks of his hips, considerate in even in his desperation. Then gasps, Vulcan worlds, half mangled as James's had taken him deep in his throat, humming and sucking, wantonly and filthily, until Spock had gotten the message that gentle wasn't the only way to go. Swallowing down his reward; the white sweetness of the half Vulcan's cum and the look in Spock's eyes, so god damn tender it was nearly reverent as fingers feathered over his cheeks and the side of his mouth where some of the whiteness still lingered, marking him as Spock's.

That lovely green cock between his fingers, cradled by his hands, an opportunity for him to finally return the pleasurable torture that Spock had inflicted on him. Gentle strokes designed to tease rather than inflame, thumb rubbing between the double ridges, the movement eliciting whimpers from so typically reserved Vulcan lips that James's drank down like fine wine. Desperate jerks of hips in an attempt to gain more stimulation until James's finally gave in, pumping Spock's shaft with more force and taking just the tip of his cock into his mouth, humming until he felt Spock begin to come. Removing his mouth so that Spock came on his hand, and then, once Spock was finally spent, rubbing one hand soothingly on hips that still jerked erratically while bringing the other one to Spock's mouth so he could suck his own seed from James's fingers.

And then finally, when the last traces of the madness had gone, laying on his back, legs wrapped around Spock's hips as Spock thrust gently into him, faces only inches apart. Gentle hands in his hair as his own feathered up and down Spock's back, gesture more soothing than anything else, far to light to leave marks. Breathe mingling, soft, sweet kisses alternated with deep, sticky ones, consuming, tongues duelling lazily, more playful than dominant. Eyes, deep brown and hazel that never broke contact, even as hot hands moved to his cock and stroked once, twice, three times until he came, the orgasm a gentle wave rather than an all consuming force. The rippling of the muscles of anus milking Spock into his own orgasm, gentle and untainted by pon farr, fingers brushing lightly against his forehead, projecting the faintest feeling of _warmth, love, thank you, t'hy'la_. Then Spock finally broke their eye contact, slumping over to lay his head in the crock of James's neck, a weight that he welcomed as he brought his arms up to encircle him, closing his own eyes to savour the moment.

Later, once they had separated and had wiped each other clean they finally moved to the bed in the corner of the room, lying down together, appreciating the pleasure that naked flesh on naked flesh brought. How long they stayed there, wordlessly laying in each others' arms James could not could say, but neither did he care as he could think of nothing better than laying there with his t'hy'la, without a care in the world, nothing to do but listen to the impossibly soothing sound of his lovers heartbeat. Then Spock raised his head and brought those beautiful brown eyes, finally clear of the fever to his and smiled his tiny not smile before he whispered, voice raspy but much more composed that it had been, "I do not believe that this is the contemporary idea of heaven, but I can think of no better way to spend my afterlife."

Ah. And so, ok, there was still that one little thing that he had left to do.

A/N: So finally, the reunion porn. I had originally thought that this was going to be longer and rougher, but James's and Spock had other ideas apparently, and I ended up liking where this went instead. I found that, as I wrote it my opinion of pon farr and what it could be changed a bit and so this was born. Next, our gentlemen will have their 'talking reunion' (they were a little too overwhelmed to talk before) where they both explain the score and settle all their misconceptions. That should be up next week, week after that at the latest (I could probably leave them as one part, but I figured I'd get this up now). As usual, enjoy and review.


	11. Second Star to the Right

Part 10 – Second Star to the Right (Straight On 'Till Morning)

Disclaimer: Star Trek and the boys belong to Gene Roddenberry, who I am not. I am only borrowing them with the greatest respect, and promise to return them in (mostly) pristine condition.

A/N: Much thanks to the very talented NightTorchLight for her fabulous beta work which makes me seem like I'm actually good at grammar; it is much appreciated.

_"Jim...this simple feeling is beyond V'Ger's comprehension. No meaning, no hope. And Jim, no answers. It's asking questions. 'Is this all that I am? Is there nothing more?'"_ – **Spock to Kirk** (Star Trek: TMP – also known as that fabulous scene where they hold hands).

"_I have been, and ever shall be, your friend. Live long, and prosper."_ - **Spock **(Star Trek II)

Although James was aware of the fact that this conversation that would likely go better sitting up, he was loathe to relinquish the warmth and pleasure that laying beside Spock brought; the full body press of skin against skin. So he compromised, twisting in the warm embrace just enough so that he could face Spock. He curled his body slightly and brought one of his arms up to grasp Spock's hand, twining them together between their bodies. He pressed a gentle kiss to their joined hands, a pleasing mixture of coolness and heat, before he raised his head to meet Spock's eyes and said, after a deep and fortifying breath, "You're not dead, Spock."

His statement was met with a slightly bemused look, minute on Spock's face, but a clear indication that he was being humored. After a second Spock said, his voice lazy and unconcerned, logical but light, "I must be, James; there is no other logical explanation. You are dead, and so for me to be with you here now, I must also have passed on. Truly, my friend, if you have said such a thing because you are worried on how this should affect me I must tell you that death brings me no sorrow, for it has brought me to you once again."

There was a second where James simply could not speak; emotion, deep, twisted and churning caught in his throat and clogged it. "No, no, my friend, that is not what I meant, although the sentiment is... much appreciated. But what I meant was; I'm not dead either, Spock." Now there was a flicker of something more than amusement in Spock's eyes, but he forced himself to continue rather than become lost in them. "I didn't die on the Enterprise-B; instead I was trapped in an energy field called the Nexus. But I was alive, and I finally managed to get out and back to you. I think that was probably what made you go into pon farr, but I got here in time to foil your little 'I'm not going to mate with anyone else even to save my life' plan – which we are going to have words about later and don't think we won't -" and he shot Spock a look that he hoped was both fond and slightly stern, "And so here we are, both alive."

There was a moment of silence after he had spoken; long enough so that he began to feel the slightest feeling of worry creep into his bones, permeating his skin like a chill that couldn't be shaken. Spock's eyes were shielded now, no longer filled with that lovely, drowsy, post-coital contentment, and he couldn't read anything from them; glass that his gaze only slid over but could not penetrate, and the coolness was unnerving. The silence stretched so long, as Spock lay soberly beside him, that although James was loathe to interrupt whatever Spock was thinking, James' awkwardness grew so great that he had opened his mouth to speak (although he had no idea what he wanted to say) when Spock finally broke the silence himself, his voice now carefully and terrifyingly level. "T'hy'la... did you meet a man named Captain Picard in this Nexus?"

"Yes." He answered slowly, and because he was beginning to suspect that in this particular situation it was not him who held all the cards after all, he asked, slightly hesitantly (for he was relatively positive he wasn't going to like the answer), "How did you know that?"

Something that looked like the stirrings of understanding flashed through Spock's eyes at his hesitant question. It was a look that he was intimately familiar with, as it had accompanied many of Spock's greatest deductions which had saved their lives time and time again, but now instead of the fondness that he typically felt at that look there was only terror, because he had a feeling that what Spock had grasped was about to shatter the very foundation of his existence. After another moment Spock answered, his voice still too carefully logical for comfort, "I too met the Captain, although later than you did. Did you exit the Nexus with him?"

"No, I didn't. I wanted to, and for a moment I thought I had... but then he was just gone and I was still there," James answered, and at the look that flashed across Spock's face at his statement, he untangled himself from their embrace and sat up, only barely resisting the urge to wrap his arms around himself in an attempt to gather his courage. He laid them on the bed instead, flexed his fingers restlessly in the sheets until Spock too sat up. Then he asked the question he was relatively positive he didn't want the answer too. "What aren't you telling me?"

For a second there was a look in Spock's eyes - so heartbreaking that James nearly had to close his own eyes to stop the sheer pain that stabbed into his chest, sharper than anything he could remember - but then Spock opened his mouth and spoke, and James realized that he had been wrong, because this was far more agonizing. "Captain Picard shared his memories with me, after he exited the Nexus. They showed that he did not exit alone. You did leave with him, and helped him defeat Soran, the man who was attempting to destroy the Veridian system to enter the Nexus on Veridian III. However, you were... killed in the process, when a bridge collapsed on top of you. The Captain shared his memories with me afterwards, as he knew that you meant... a great deal to me and he believed that I would find comfort in your last moments of life."

There was a curious lack of sensation after Spock finished speaking. He wasn't aware of the concerned look that Spock was giving him; wasn't aware of the warmth of his skin as he threaded their fingers together again, nor the heat of the room. There was simply a numbness that filled him as he weighed what Spock had told him, a terrible buzzing sound in his ears as he considered the impossible statement that reached almost unbearable heights when his mind realized that, because it was Spock who'd said it, it wasn't a lie (not that Vulcan's couldn't lie, but Spock wouldn't, not about something like this). "No... you're wrong. I didn't leave with Picard. I stayed until I managed to leave and enter this universe. I didn't die – I'm right here, with you."

By the time he had finished speaking his voice was no more than a plea, and the tone of his own voice would have made him cringe in shame if he had not been so consumed by his sheer fear of what the implications of this new truth meant. He'd been so sure he had gotten out, so sure he had been in the real world again, and with the real Spock, but if the things he was saying were true, then he must have been wrong, and the despair threatened to crush him alive. _The Nexus is improving_, he couldn't help but think; there had been no fear jumping that horse but there sure was now.

"I'm still in the Nexus," he unnecessarily told the facsimile of Spock that he was sitting beside (and god, didn't that feel like having his heart ripped out of his chest), barely managing to keep the sheer hysteria that was starting to build in him out of his voice. "I suppose I should have known. This was all too perfect to be real."

"No, I do not believe you are," the lie whispered to him, so heart-breakingly earnest that it hurt his ears to hear it. The words were accompanied by the lightest touch of hands to his shoulder, but the knowledge that this was only a fantasy made the comforting gesture feel like iron weights were resting upon him, trapping him in place and stealing his breath.

"There isn't any other alternative," he told the echo, this fake Spock who he had wanted so badly to be real (had believed to be real, and the realization that he wasn't was impossibly crushing). "You believe I'm dead and I'm not, so you can't be real and if you aren't real, then I'm still in the Nexus." And then he laughed, cruelly and without mirth before he continued, "Maybe Bones was right after all these years; maybe I do have a masochistic streak. To want something that hurts this much can't really be considered anything else can it?"

It was mostly a rhetorical question, hardly even directed at himself, much less Spock, but Spock (not Spock, he had to remember that) seemed to be actually considering it, if the specific tilt of his eyebrows was any clue. After a few minutes of silence where not-Spock thought and James tried to memorize his face, so that he'd at least have something to remember when he disappeared, Spock (not-Spock, goddammit) raised his eyes back to James', and for a second they were absolutely, impossibly temptingly clear. For a second they weren't the eyes of a lie pulled from the deep recesses of his mind, they were simply Spock's eyes, as bright as they had been all of those years ago when they had mapped the galaxies. It was the look that Spock had gotten when he'd wrapped his insanely beautiful mind around something that the rest of them couldn't even have begun to understand; it was the look that had always preceded Spock saving their asses; it was the look that Spock had always given him when he told him he loved him (it was the most precious look he had).

"I believe I may understand what has happened. However, it is difficult to explain. If you would allow me to show you...?" Spock said, to break the silence, and as he trailed off he lifted his hand slightly, letting it rest tantalizingly close to James' forehead. Since James, still memorized by the tantalizing realism of those much beloved eyes, really didn't have anything to lose anyways, he simply nodded.

In response he felt the lightest of touches to his forehead, the slightest caress, softer than butterfly wings before he felt the shifting sensation of the meld. It wasn't a rush as it often had been, but rather a gentle slide, like walking through endless reams of silk, soft and cool, the fit seamless as he was slowly led back into the mind that he so desperately wanted to be Spock's. For a moment he simply floated in the feeling, soaked up every nuance of this beautiful lie before there was what felt like the slightest pressure all around him, gently guiding him towards what he needed to see.

There was another moment for him to float, to soak in as much of this as he could before the lie finally evaporated and then, without warning he was sunk into a memory and _he was Spock and he was alone, younger than he was now, but older than when he had lost Jim. He was looking upon Captain Picard of the new Enterprise, who was telling him that Captain Kirk – his Jim – had died, not years ago as he had thought, but only a few days ago. Was telling him that he had left him alone in that place and he couldn't - wouldn't believe it - because that strange echo of a bond was still there, the one that had been there since Jim had disappeared. _

_Picard was offering him the opportunity to see for himself; to see the last moments of the man who had meant more to him than anything in the universe. So he reached forward, before he could even think of the consequences, and delved into Picard's mind to find any traces of his Captain that were there. Then he was in that mind and he saw - an observer on the outside who couldn't affect the events no matter how loud he screamed - Jim as he had been when he had left that fateful day to test the Enterprise-B. Saw him in their cabin, chopping wood; saw him ride his horse and realize that the world he was in wasn't real. Saw him leave the energy field, which Picard would later tell him was called the Nexus, with Captain Picard, saw him arrive on Veridian III and stop Soran. Watched, in agony, as he fell and the bridge collapsed on top of him, tried so hard to stop it but couldn't, only able to watch as he whispered his final words and his eyes closed for the last time, his last sentiment still echoing in his ears as agony bled through his veins at the realization that what Picard said was true; because he was Spock and he was alone and Jim was gone._

"_It was...fun."_

Suddenly James was himself again; back in the room with Spock's hand still resting on his forehead, moving slightly to create the lightest caress in a gesture that he imagined was intended to be comforting. However there was no comfort to be found because of what he'd seen, because those last words were such a _him_ thing to say; so fitting that he nearly believed it, because that would have been exactly what he would have chosen for a last sentiment. But it still couldn't be right, because he didn't remember any of that. Couldn't be right because if he'd died, if he'd gone with Picard (which he hadn't - he'd wanted to, but then Picard had disappeared and James had been left in the Nexus - where he was now, a nasty little voice reminded himself; none of this mattered anyways, because it wasn't real) then couldn't be here, now alive and with Spock.

Then, the slightest brush of a meld, likely unintentional on Spock's part, and he was pushed for a second into a memory that Spock had received from Picard in what James knew, with a certainty that he shouldn't have had but did all the same, was an accident, a side effect of the transfer. _The strange swirling of the world that meant the Nexus, a room with a Christmas tree and children who laughed as they played, smiled and called for their father to join them. A dark skinned woman with kind, slightly sad eyes, her voice soft as she spoke to the man he knew to be Captain Picard, "I can't come back. I'm already there."_

In space there was no sound. Stars - and worlds themselves - died silently, no matter how big of an explosion they made, and the epiphany that hit him as he pulled himself out of that memory was similar. Destruction, utter chaos and ruin, but silent; nothing more than a soundless gasp that betrayed the enormity of what he had realized.

"I wasn't. I wasn't already there... because I was dead, so I could leave again," he said, nearly stumbling over the words. In his numbness, he wondered if they had even come out in the right order, almost choking over them as he continued. "I... left the Nexus and died on a bridge helping Picard stop Soran, but a part of me stayed and was able to leave again. I'm nothing more than a copy." Any feeling of relief from the realization that he had been wrong, that he had finally managed to escape from the Nexus, was drowned out by the terrible sickness of this new truth. It washed over him, and he pulled himself from Spock's grasp and continued, his words cutting off the protests that Spock was beginning to utter.

"I dreamed you in the Nexus, you know that?" he said quietly, and it was somehow neither a question nor a statement, simply words that we escaping him like air. "I did it with the others too, but it always came back to you." He wasn't sure he could meet Spock's eyes, so he kept his focus on the bedding, and continued only when he heard no response.

"I spent an eternity just looking at you before I realized that you, them, no one was real; they were just ghosts." Though he tried to keep it in, a desperately sad chuckle escaped his mouth and echoed sharp and brittle in the silence. "So I fought to get out; to see you and finally be able to breathe! How ironic; after everything, I end up being the ghost in the real world. I think I'd rather prefer being in the Nexus to this." He whispered, and knew it was only a half truth, because no matter how unreal he was, how incomplete he was, he'd still prefer to be with Spock, even though what he was now was so unworthy of him.

"No," Spock announced in response, voice sharp and as strong as steel, and Jim ducked his head further, not sure if Spock was refuting what he'd said, or simply his presence, equally terrified of both. Then hands, aged but so desperately familiar, cupped his chin and gently but firmly brought his face up so that his own hazel eyes met Spock's familiar and cherished too human eyes.

"No," he repeated again, and his hands held firm when Jim tried to turn his head again to escape that precious, penetrating look. "You are not a ghost. You are James Tiberius Kirk, who once captained the greatest ship in the fleet and saved more lives than any man I know. More importantly," he continued, hardly even stopping to take a breath in an effort to cut Jim off when opened his mouth to protest, "You are my life, my love and my t'hy'la. You are mine, and I will not allow anyone, not even you, to believe otherwise."

For a moment Jim felt his heart, which had previously plummeted, rise at Spock's declaration hope and love twining together with his unshakable trust in Spock to create a feeling that almost made him believe that everything was going to be alright (that he was a real person). But then, after only seconds of that incredibly intoxicating feeling, his heart promptly sank again as Spock turned minutely away, the corners of his mouth turning down into the tiniest frown. James thought he could almost see his happiness evaporate with that gesture.

"If anything," he began, and Jim braced himself for the hurt he was sure was going to follow, "it is I who am in the wrong." And then Jim sat dumbfound for a moment as he desperately attempted to change gears and process Spock's statement, but came up with nothing. Spock looked back at his face for a moment and then continued answering the question that Jim had not been able to even begin to verbalize, shame and grief coloring his voice. "I gave up on you, t'hy'la. I was so assured of your death that I consequently left you alone in that place, when you once stopped at nothing to bring me back to life."

"You couldn't have known that I was alive in there. It wasn't your fault." Jim stated, completely baffled at how they had gotten onto this topic, which could only be considered impossibly illogical. That fact that Spock somehow thought this was his fault could only be evidence that he was still dreaming this, even though the evidence proved that he wasn't and so he stayed speechless in confusion until Spock continued again, voice sincere but slightly pained.

"I should have – the bond never broke, not even when you died on the bridge. It was so quiet, like an absence of sound; still there but through glass, so that I could not touch it or feel it. But it did not break, t'hy'la – this bond between us is the same one that we forged the first time. It would not have survived if you hadn't been alive all of that time, and so it was my error in not realizing that you still lived, even after Veridian III."

"But..." James began, because really, this was just too absurd and too simple; because Spock was giving him an out, an actual honest to god chance at being a real person and having a real life when he'd thought that such a thing was impossible. It was too simple because there was no cost here, nothing to pay, and although James might not have been as cynical as his younger counterpart, he wasn't oblivious to the fact that things as good as this rarely came without demanding a pound of flesh in return. The freeness of the exchange (and the fact that he just escaped from the Nexus, which made him suspicious of pretty much everything) made him a bit wary.

However, Spock could clearly see the resistance on his face as he squeezed James's hand once in reassurance, before he said quietly, but with the utmost certainty, "No t'hy'la, no buts. The bond would not have survived your death on the bridge if you had not still been alive in the Nexus; this is a fact. And I do not believe that it would still exist if you were only a copy. The bond needs a mind, healthy and whole and human; needs your mind, and if you were anything less than your true self than it would die. That it is alive is proof that you are alive, alive and whole and real."

"But I'm not." He stated, because this was something that Spock just couldn't seem to see, and something that he felt he needed to, even though it was so tempting (god, so damn tempting) to simply accept the theory that Spock had developed. "Perhaps I have all of my... his... my memories from before, but I'm still only what was left over in the Nexus. Perhaps I'm complete enough to be a real person, but I'm still hardly more than an imposter. You deserve so much better than that."

He half expected Spock to pull away, to distance himself from him once he accepted the logic of Jim's statement; once he'd seen what Jim was now. He'd already braced himself for the coldness of that; of the look that would appear in Spock's eyes, not mean but simply not there; the cool logic that would cut through him like a blade. He had not, however, expected Spock to smile at him, just a hint of it in the corner of his mouth and move closer to him, squeeze his forearm in comfort before he said, "If you are an imposter, t'hy'la, then I must be as well."

He had thought that he'd gotten used to having the rug pulled out from underneath him, not only in this conversation but in his time as Captain of the Enterprise (because really, when had things ever gone to plan then?) but he'd clearly been wrong, because... this? This was like getting hit with a photon torpedo. It left his mind simply blank. There was no way that this was logical; this didn't even enter the realm of possibly making sense. Aware of the fact that he likely looked like he had been sucker punched, he couldn't come up with anything to say other than, "What...?"

"You seem to have forgotten that I am not who I was when meet – I died as well." Spock replied his little non-smile deepened further, although his voice remained sincere. In any other situation he might have been able to work up a little righteous indignation at the humor in Spock's voice and the fact that the dictation of Spock's voice reminded him of an adult talking to a particularly slow child, but now he was unable to do anything but soak up what he was saying like water after a drought.

It took him a moment for him to realize that there was nothing more was forthcoming from Spock. The shock was finally starting to wear off, and in its place a sense of confusion was creeping up (as well as the tiniest feeling of nearly hysterical bemusement because really, how on Earth – or New Vulcan, as it were – did this have relevance?). So instead of dragging Spock off to this planet's equivalent of a shrink (partly because he couldn't exactly throw stones in the whole sanity thing, but mostly because that would mean he would have to dress him and he was really enjoying the view) he simply settled for stating, in the calmest voice that he could manage, "But that's different."

The tiny not-smile on Spock face deepened even more so, his eyes crinkling ever so slightly with something so warm, making James' inside tingle like he was a prepubescent girl. When he spoke, however, there was no humor in his voice, only warmth and truth; an intoxicating mix that left James helpless to do anything but listen. "How so? I stored my memories in the good doctor's mind just as yours were stored in the Nexus. My body needed the Genesis machine to be restored and time for my memories to return, while you stayed whole in the Nexus. If anything, t'hy'la, you are more complete than I am. If you can accept that I am real, then you are left with no alternative than to do the same for yourself."

And then he paused for a second and he look grew impossibly tender before he said, voice gentle but unyielding. "Perhaps we are even; not who we were when we started, but together all the same.

It took him a second to absorb what Spock was saying, but once he did he was struck by the most wonderful calm as everything finally crystallized for him. In that moment, when the feeling of wonder had finally left his mind and he could think clearly, it occurred to him not only what the baser issue was here, but also the risk that Spock was taking here, because in the end it wasn't just his feelings that were on the line. This was _his_ choice to take or to leave, not Spock's, and he so wanted to believe it, every fiber of his being wanted to accept it. And truly, the issue was actually relatively simple, because if there was one thing that he had always been, it was greedy. He'd sacrificed a lot in his career, but when it had come to things that had truly mattered (and Spock, since the very first moment, since "Permission to come aboard, Captain" had always been in that category) he grabbed them with both hands and refused to let go, no matter what. Although so many things, too numerous to list, had changed, this hadn't, and so since he could see that brass ring so clearly, just tempting him to grab it with both hands, he simply did. He smiled, letting it creep across his entire face until he almost feared that his face would split from the force, and said, voice finally clear of the terrible heaviness that had settled over him, "I should have known better to argue a matter of logic with a Vulcan. I never really even stood a chance, did I?"

"No, t'hy'la, you did not," Spock answered, and James took a second to drown in the relief glowing in his eyes, letting the feeling fill him until he was nearly bursting; took a moment to simply bask in the feeling of being _alive_, a sensation made only more heady by the fact that he hadn't felt it in so long. After a moment Spock slowly reopened his arms, an invitation that his Vulcan propriety still didn't allow him to verbalize, and James sank into them willingly, feeling as if the entire weight of the world had just been lifted off of his shoulders. He then fell back, trusting Spock to guide them into a comfortable stance, simply letting his whole body be surrounded by Spock's, letting the warmth of his body seep into his own. For the first time in a long time, he let himself close his eyes for a second, without fear of the world disappearing when he opened them again.

After a few minutes of simply enjoying the peace, he reopened his eyes and turned his head towards Spock, who was watching him with a look that encompassed both great relief and profound satisfaction (Spock had always loved to win an argument just as much as James always had). James smiled at him in return before a stray thought occurred to him, and in an effort to lighten the still slightly tense aura that lingered after their conversation, he asked lazily, "So I hear you met our young counterparts as well. What did you think of them?"

"They have a great deal of potential, both professionally and personally." Spock responded and James couldn't help but chuckle slightly at the fact that Spock could still use a company tone when he was stark naked, before he replied, humor clear in his voice, "I must say, that makes you sound rather conceited Mr. Spock." He smirked slightly as he deliberately left out the fact that he had thought the same thing (and that Spock's ass had not suffered with time, but he digressed).

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean Captain." Spock replied demurely. At the (adorable) contrast of the absolute dead innocence of Spock's voice and the sly twinkle in his eyes that revealed that he was anything but, James couldn't help but throw his head back and laugh, the sound loud, joyous and unburdened before he answered, "And I'm sure you're pulling my leg, Mr. Spock, but because I happen to love you, I'll let it slide." And then a humorous side thought occurred to him and he asked, after he had regained his breath from laughing, "Did you tell them I was an Admiral?"

Spock paused, only slightly in response before he answered, his voice gentle but strangely stilted, "I did not. You were always Captain to me, no matter your official title. And perhaps there are some things they should discover on their own."

Spock lapsed into silence after he had finished speaking and James to that moment to consider what he'd said, because he didn't buy it, at least not completely. The Captain part was true, yes, because Spock had always known him as well as – and sometimes even better than - he had known himself, and he'd always considered himself a Captain, but the other part wasn't, really. He knew, in the part of him that was so tightly intertwined with Spock that they could have been a single person, that Spock felt as he did; that they should allow their younger selves to make their own mistakes rather than the ones that they themselves had made - do as I say, not as I did - and allow them to grow into their own people; a feat that he imagined would require some conversation at some time in the future. So it was not that reason that Spock had not informed them of his former post as an Admiral. Rather he imagined it was a reluctance to talk of that time, full of loneliness where they had both tried to hide; Spock in the desert of Gol and he in San Francisco, pride and fear keeping them so far apart. It had been such an unnecessary waste of time - his one regret in their entire relationship, because they could have had so much more time together if they had not been so blind. However, this was not the time for that, when their conversation was finally lightening again, after it had been so hopeless, so instead he simply let the unsaid stay unsaid and responded, his voice full of poorly disguised mirth, "You didn't think they'd believe it, huh?"

There was a flash of gratitude in Spock's eyes, so fleeting that he could have imagined it, though he knew he had not, before Spock said, the tiniest hint of humor in his voice, "...That may have been a factor. Perhaps we can tell them together at a later time – for the scientific benefit of observing their reaction of course."

"That sounds like fun – it's a date, Mr. Spock." He chuckled, enjoying the opportunity to once again be the one humoring Spock instead of the other way around, and if the twinkle in Spock's eye as he answered, "Agreed, Captain," was any clue, then Spock wasn't against the return to their usual dynamic either.

After another few moments of quiet contentment, James couldn't quite hold in the yawn that hit him, but it didn't surprise him. Emotion was exhausting, and he had certainly weathered enough of that in a very short amount of time (and performed other tiring activities as well), so his sudden desire to close his eyes and sleep for a very long time wasn't odd at all. To communicate his intention to Spock (instead of just falling asleep on him without a word, which would be pleasurable but probably a bit rude), he turned his head towards Spock and said, "I don't know about you and your superior biology that leads to some of those fabulous 'Vulcan's need less sleep than humans, Doctor' fights – and don't even try calling them conversations because they were totally fights and you enjoyed every minute of them, you passive aggressive Vulcan – but my inferior human biology is demanding some shut-eye right about now."

"I too could rest." Spock said levelly, ignoring the rest of his remark, although the twinkle in his eye either expressed his humor or threatened some type of revenge (it was about a 50/50 chance, by his best estimate).

"We're in agreement, then - awesome," he deadpanned in response, before arranging himself into a more comfortable position (his head on Spock's shoulder, his body just touching Spock's - it was a position that they had perfected through much research and many years). After they were settled; the lights low, air comfortable, breath even and relaxed, he murmured, "Sleep well."

"You as well," Spock replied equally as quietly, and a pleasant silence followed for a few minutes, broken only for a second just as sleep was starting to creep into the edges of his vision, as Spock whispered into the darkness, his voice heavy with sleep and love. "You are real t'hy'la, of this I know, and you should never doubt. Who else but James T. Kirk could have defied the odds that you did to return to me?"

And at that James couldn't help but let out the tiniest chuckle and smiled into the darkness, because despite the fact that this was not Vulcan; that this was not even their universe, and that they were not who they had once been; he was with Spock, and so, against all the odds, he was home. At the warmth brought by that thought he shifted, so that he could rest his head gently against Spock's chest, and although he couldn't know it, in doing so he mirrored the position of two very similar men on the Enterprise who shared not only their faces and names, but their passions as well. As they finally surrendered to slumber, cocooned in the sheer perfection of the moment the universe, for only a moment, aligned, because in that moment, everything was as it should be.

And although it could not stay like that for long, as the universe was not a static entity, they knew they that no matter what tomorrow brought, together they would triumph.

But that... well, that is a story for another time.

**Chief DiFalco:** _"Heading, sir?"_

**Kirk:** _"Out there. Thataway."_

- **Chief DiFalco** and **Kirk** (_The Motion Picture)_

FIN

A/N: Oh thank god, it's finally done! Thank you to everyone who has stuck by me and continued to read while I wrote this, as well as extra thanks to everyone who took the time to write a review. I've both enjoyed the praise and the constructive criticism. On that note, I am still continuing to write Redefining Destiny as well as taking on a new personal challenge; I am trying to write a series of (smutty) one shots on all the famous K/S clichés (fuck-or-die, sharing body heat on a frozen planet, etc.) and I'd love some additional ideas, so feel free to review with clichés that you'd like to see me try and tackle. That said, thank you again and as always, feel free to review and I hope it was enjoyed.


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